What Is and What Should Never Be
by Queen of Idjits
Summary: Before her, he was a broken, self-loathing man who was certain that no one could ever love him. He had been so sure that he was the most vile and evil creature to ever walk the earth. Then, she came. She was this strong-willed woman. She was this infuriating human who didn't take any of his wallowing sorrows. And she became the sun and stars that illuminated his never ending night.
1. Chapter 1

Katherine giggled. The sound of calm waters splashing filled the crisp air as Katherine moved to lean on the edge of the tub. Her dark arm rested against the cool white surface, her cheek lying on her arm, curiously gazing at Deanna with a sense of fondness that most didn't understand could exist within platonic love. A smile adorned her face, white teeth peeking out through faintly parted pomegranate colored lips. Love rested in her heart, sending waves of shuddering warmth from her drumming organ to the surface, while she waited for her friend to respond.

Deanna's green eyes locked with Katherine's lively irises of forest green pools and sunset gold flecks, staring steadily with a knowing smirk. She knew her friend all too well.

Placing an elbow on her knee, and her chin upon the palm of her hand, she leaned on the edge of her seat, drawing closer to Katherine. Their faces inches apart, eyes exchanging silent messages. If someone were to walk in, they might have been taken back with the room illuminated by candles, the rich rose scent of Katherine's bath filling the air, and two girls face to face. To see Katherine, not even hidden in her bubbly water, staring intently at Deanna, who was clad in a creamy robe that barely went past her mid thigh, one might assume that there was romance between the two girls, who did, indeed, love each other quite tenderly.

"Tell me, Katie, about how we'll be together forever," Deanna prompted with a sad smile. Katherine gave Deanna's hand a squeeze before she fell into her bath water, cleansing her hair with the scent of rosemary and mint. Deanna sighed, lounging on the edge of the tub, waiting for her petite friend to resurface. As morbid as Katherine was at times, Deanna knew her friend would never leave her alone in the world. Besides, Deanna figured that drowning herself wasn't Katherine's style anyways.

At the sound of a gasp, Deanna's body twitched as she seemed to perk up. Katherine sputtered slicking her light coffee colored, wet hair back, not liking how it clung to her face. Her nose crinkled and her eyebrows furrowed, making a spitefully angry face at Deanna, as if it were her fault that she, Katherine, hadn't the air to live under the cleansing water a bit longer. Deanna didn't seem bothered by this. They had been friends since they were in elementary school, back when detention was one of the scariest things in the world. Unlike those days, the two girls existed in their own little world, loyal to only themselves. They often forgot that they hadn't always known each other, and that long ago, there was a time when it was just them in their lonely world.

At an all girl's school, it wasn't strange for girls to be joined at the hip. There was a sisterly nature in every single one of the students. It could be seen in the ways that the girl's exchanged smiles, in the way that they assisted each other without a single hesitation most of the time. There was unwritten rules with feminine friendship and compassion in their gated community that they called their school.

Katherine didn't have to look at her face to know Deanna was donning an expression of bittersweet pain as the girl fetched Katherine's robe. Her own dampen locks clinging to the soft fabric of a creamy robe that seemed to rise and fall near her rear. Katherine noticed, yes, but she never stared at Deanna in a way that was beyond sisterly.

"I'd promise, but the universe is cruel with promises and vows. It's kind of like the one where we promised not to indulge in sinful desires," Katherine pointed out. Deanna's creamy cheeks flushed as she remembered how she once had to hide an R-rated movie that showed her favorite actor almost nude under her floorboard when there was a room inspection. At a Catholic school, having seasons upon seasons of a show that holds not only violence but also a profuse amount of nudity, was, without a doubt, a violation of the student handbook. "And I remember some very lemony fanfiction links you had stored on your laptop, Missy. I'm pretty sure you don't want me to make a promise as well kept as that one, huh?" Katherine added with her hands on her hips and an elvish smile upon her lips at the sight of Deanna's muscles tensing.

Before Katherine could react, a heavy and wet towel slapped against her face before falling to the ground. Her jaw was slackened as she stammered for a verbal response to her friend's out of character violence. Though it didn't hurt her much, Katherine's grin curled and twisted maliciously as she proceeded to fling the towel back at her friend. Before not, the two girls were chasing each other around the tub, splashing about and causing a ruckus. When a knock came upon their door, they expected it to be one of the other neighboring girls.

The two girls giggled, shushing each other as they climbed into their beds that they pushed together. Girls were supposed to be in bed by ten, asleep by eleven. The time, in the present, was currently dawning on the next day. So, it was with sweetness and fondness that the two exchanged a "goodnight" and an "I love you" before trying to quickly fall asleep. Legs weaved together, holding each other's hands. Morning was coming, and they would revel in their closeness as much as possible until morning came.

Though they wanted sweet dreams, nothing but dreams of them lounging under their favorite tree in the quad. They wanted to dream of the time when Natalie Kuang had gotten so sick on a field trip that the bus was stranded near a music festival for hours. They wanted to remember all the times when they looked at each other and found their own sun, their center of gravity. It wasn't romantic love. It was pure love. It was compassion. It was empathy. It was the bond that could only exist within two people sharing the same soul. It was friendship.

And when morning came, they'd be ripped apart. Deanna's parents were getting a divorce, and due to the instability of their income, her mother couldn't afford to send Deanna to St. Mary's Academy, so she was sending Deanna to live with her uncle, Charlie. Deanna begged, pleaded, and even fell to her knees trying to get her to stay. She applied for scholarships, scholarships that she should have gotten had St. Mary's not have a prejudice over students that weren't Catholic. And so, the two spirit bound girls were being separated. Katherine swore up and down to fight like hell to keep Deanna at St. Mary's, but Deanna wouldn't let Katherine be convicted for arson. When morning came, they would hold each other tightly until four adults would have to rip them apart, kicking and screaming.

Some called them co-dependent, but both were rather independent women. It was by choice that they be fiercely loyal... But how far could their loyalty last on opposite sides of the country?

"Deanna, how long are you going to continue to give me the silent treatment?" Her mother asked exasperatedly. Katherine's blue eyes continued to look everywhere except for her mother. She was always a stubborn girl. When she was seven, her mother told her that she wouldn't be allowed to eat until she agreed to apologize to the Priest that she called a "fascist asshole." After a day, her mother put a plate in front of her and told her to eat. Deanna just stared her mother in the eyes and continued to stare in silence. The spanking came, and Deanna made her lip bleed to stop herself from screaming. It was alarming when three days passed. The fourth day, Deanna passed out and had to be taken to the hospital. That was when Deanna's mother knew her daughter was different.

Instead of taking her to a psychiatrist, her mother forced her to go to church. Deanna rebelled, but never before, seeing as she now knew that if it wasn't her mother forcing her to do things it would be a legal authority. So, she struck back coldly. She'd scratch the wood on the pews, "accidentally" get sick to avoid duty, and even shriek and throw a fit whenever her mother would force her into extra hours. And all that she got in return was being sent to St. Mary's. Little did Deanna's mother know that Deanna would meet her ultimate partner in crime, the young philosopher in the making, Katherine Marks. And though her rebellion died out, Margot Walsh never looked at Deanna the same.

"Deanna... You can't hate me forever."

Silence.

"Deanna, you're getting on a plane and are going across the country. Please, can't you just forgive me so that if this is the last time that I see you, then I can take comfort that you and I left on loving notes?"

Silence.

"Deanna."

The girl just turned her head away.

"Deanna, please..."

Deanna just pursed her lips and looked down. She wouldn't give in. She never gave in. She was stubborn like that. For the sake of her mother, though, she gave a reluctant hug and nodded the woman goodbye before departing for her plane. The whole time listening to a playlist that Katherine had compiled for her. She couldn't text or call Katherine from a plane. Still, she had that comfort that Katherine's beautiful music was playing in her head. Sure, she had a silver locket of her and Katherine, but it was a whole different experience to hear Katherine's music. Every note was meaningful and significant, specifically chosen in order to create an experience unlike any other. Deanna, in one sitting, could listen to Katherine's love, passion, devastation, and elation because nothing of Katherine's was ever less than moving. By the time her flight was over, Deanna was wiping tears from her eyes as she listened to a song titled "A Dream of Deanna," an epic requiem of the dreams they shared together.

Numbly, when the time came, her legs had sluggishly carried her off the plane, to luggage claim, and to a man with a police uniform on. Though it had been a long time since she last saw Charlie, but he hadn't changed. As soon as she saw him, a wide smile came upon her face, pearly whites flashing as she ran into his welcoming embrace that sent a strong sense of home into her heart. It was that same kind of warmth of an extremely familiar and pleasant memory returning to the heart.

Charlie was a common recipient of her calls from School. There were no phones during school hours, but the land lines were opened on breaks, free periods, etc.

She loved him like the father she never truly had. He was kind, caring, and knew just when to talk and when to leave her be. He didn't push her as hard as her parents, and actually preferred she not lose mental health over a test or quiz from school. And she was his surrogate daughter. Bella, his biological daughter, was a very introverted and loner of a daughter. She never showed much an interest in anyone and was most certainly hated the rainy town of Forks. Not to even mention that the girl never really needed a father as far as anyone could tell. She was so quiet and obedient that no one ever truly had much a problem with raising her. Isabella practically came out of the womb matured.

Deanna wasn't that.

Deanna was introverted and extroverted. She was revolutionary, passionate, and above all, curious. She asked questions, she dared to chase even the wildest of ideas, and she pushed hard for what she wanted. And, like the human she was, she had a tendency to shatter and break on occasion. She was volatile. She was too stubborn for her own good, and she definitely needed someone like Charlie and Katherine to be concerned with her well-being.

"Deanna!" Charlie called with a smile that made her feel at ease. It was that same fatherly smile that grounded a child with familiarity, with security that imaginative young minds needed. At least, it's what Deanna needed.

"Uncle Charlie," she greeted back, a closed lip smile appearing on her pomegranate lips. "Haven't changed a bit, have you?"

"Not as much as you have, Kiddo."

She didn't dare deny that she was practically a child. In her eyes, adulthood frightened her. It was filled with stress. Money to earn, bills to pay, responsibilities and expectations to meet...

"Let's just hope that I won't change that much," she smiled. "I rather like the idea of being able to save money on movie tickets. How long do you think I can pass as under twelve? How much longer until you get that senior citizens discount?" she fired cheekily at him. Charlie let out a chuckle, patting her shoulder as he ushered her towards the exit.

Perhaps Forks wouldn't be so bad.

It was either Forks or the blistering heat of Texas. Deanna swore up and down that she'd sooner die than return to the Lone Star State. The girl absolutely hated the dry winds, hot sun, and western style of Texas. Deanna hated her hometown in the heart of Texas. She cringed at southern accents, glared at other children that attempted to make nice with her, and snapped at any adult that tried to patronize her. She had no reason to hate the place, but it repulsed her like no other place on earth could. It was a common joke that she was allergic to "The Ol' West."

Forks was a much better option for her. It was green, not a single mesquite tree in sight! No mosquitos, no having to embarrass herself by having to flash pale skin because of a hot winter season. Forks was cool, allowing her to hide away in long sleeves and pants year long. It was cloudy with raindrops to kiss her skin and wash her free of her teen angst. She felt right at home, despite never having, technically, lived in Forks. At the most, she visited for about three days before her mother would drag her away once more.

"So," Charlie began, awkwardly trying to make conversation. Deanna raised an eyebrow expectantly, a smile on her face that encouraged him to continue. Poor Charlie had a bad case of social anxiety. Deanna had it as well, but hers was more on the brink of babbling and chattering nonstop to fill the terrifying silence. "How's you mother?" he asked, desperately wanting some way to connect with the teen he was entrusted with, but not knowing how.

"She's good," Deanna shrugged lamely. In truth, she had no idea or care. There was a fine wall between her and her mother. Deanna chose to force herself to build a wall between her and her mother for one reason: Love. She knew that her mother tried to love her, but would never understand her. Her mother was a shallow pool that lived in simplicity. Deanna was the depths that constantly sought complications and difficult questions. Deanna understood her mother and longed to love her. As good as her mother's intentions were, she never wanted to understand Deanna. She wanted Deanna to be shaped into the same kind of woman she was, but that was precisely something Deanna refused to be. It was a tragic truth that Deanna discovered, but for her own protection, Deanna couldn't let herself love her mother. It was a toxic relationship to love someone who could never truly return the feeling. After all, how can one love what they do not wish to understand?

"Found a good car for you," Charlie uncomfortably said, realizing the subject was executed early. Deanna's eyes perked up when this was said. She never had much a chance to drive, seeing as St. Mary's was a large, yet enclosed school. To step beyond it's gates was to step into the big bad world. Needless to say, she was scared but excited to put her driver's license to use.

When Deanna didn't protest to the subject, Charlie continued, "It's a chevy..."

"Trucks. How badass," Deanna smiled. She flashed a bright smile, but she felt no excitement. She only wanted to ease Charlie's nervousness. She didn't want him to tiptoe around her. She didn't care for being pleased all the time, and often preferred to openly disagree than to beat around the bush. "I got it off a friend from La Push, Billy Black," he clarified. Deanna snorted as she remembered the infamous brotp of Charlie and Billy from their calls.

"We should visit him sometime soon," Deanna offered. She honestly had no interest in going to some reservation, but she supposed that Charlie would. "We'll have to thank him for giving you a good deal," she added with a light laugh. She inwardly called herself a hypocrite. She desired honesty, but she was a liar at times. At least she wouldn't lie about being a liar. That she was, that she was.

"You want to?" He asked, genuinely surprised. Deanna didn't have the heart to tell him no.

"Of course!" She added, a roll of her eyes to add to the informality of her tone. Charlie let out a breath, his shoulders slouching as he drove on. After some guiding and some poor puns, they arrived home. By then, he was relaxing some. The walls were coming down.

There it was. That famed two-bedroom house. It was pleasantly painted white with grey trimming. It seemed to be nested besides thick green trees that made it seem even more so bright. The house read one word: Home. Deanna smiled at it, feeling excitement for the first time. Though she hated St. Mary's, it had become familiar in that it held the one person in her life that she couldn't live without. She still couldn't live without Katie, but in this house, it would be easier to breathe when she was miles away.

There, parked awkwardly, was a faded red colored, clunky truck She cringed when Charlie wasn't looking, but she scolded herself for his thoughtfulness. Free or no, he did seem to care for her enough to give it to her. She gave a light thanks and scrounged together what little luggage she had. She never had much. St. Mary's allowed only a few decorations, ones that had to be checked and approved. She lived in a baggy, unflattering uniform paired with hideous women's loafers. She never needed much clothes because she seldom left the campus.

She had two suitcases to tug upstairs into a bedroom that looked out over the yard. There was unharmed wooden floor that complimented the pale blue-green walls, the peaked ceiling had low lamps strung across it. It was quickly noticed how many small light sources there were, but she didn't mind. What she did mind was the lace curtains around the window that were drawn open, letting a stream of northern sunlight light the room by a window seat that Deanna chose to drop her bags just to sit upon it. She always wanted one...

A small desk was placed near the bed, and she was quite thankful for a small workspace. She couldn't help but smile at the thought of trying her luck out on decorating. No rules. No Mrs. Ward to confiscate drawings and paintings. Soon, Deanna would have a wall purely for art. Drawings, paintings, sketches would begin to cloak the wall. She'd even place music sheets that Katie had given her on the wall. She couldn't play to save her life, but Katie's art deserved to be on her wall of cherished art.

Then came unpacking time.

Deanna sheepishly blushed when Charlie saw that most of her luggage held books, journals, and supplies than clothes. She shrugged lamely, giving a half hearted smile before he rested a hand on her shoulder and promised that he'd take her shopping. Deanna didn't dare protest. She knew she was desparate need of clothes. Five shirts and three pants weren't enough.

"Hungry?" Charlie asked, not knowing how to deal with such a short unpacking. Deanna shook her head, and opted for just getting shopping over with. Charlie had asked if she wanted to go to name branded stores, but she insisted on a simple dressing for less store. It took one quick trip to Port Angeles again, two hours of shopping. One hundred dollars later, they were returning home with twenty-seven new clothes and three pairs of footwear. Deanna was a thrifty girl. For one reason, she enjoyed having up to date tech.

By the time they got home a second time, they parted ways. Her to _her_ room, and him to his. She supposed it was a first for the both of them. Charlie for having someone living with him, and her for not having someone to share her room with. Despite the aesthetically pleasing room, she felt a pang of emptiness when she returned from her shower. There was no Katherine to greet her. There was no one to smile at her and share silent space with. No. This silence was empty, with only Deanna to fill. Deanna would have to wait until the next day at lunch and afterschool to hear from Katie.

This night, Deanna Walsh would endure the loneliness and begin to learn how to begin to fill the emptiness on her own.


	2. Chapter 2

A loud ghoulish groan eerily snaked through the house. Charlie, from downstairs, frowned and peered upstairs to see a silhouette shuffle to the bathroom. Deanna. A sighing smile fell onto his lips, and shaking his head, he returned to making the morning batch of coffee. This time, he was making enough for two.

Deanna's legs felt as heavy as lead. Her shoulders were slouched as she groggily shuffled into the bathroom, back to her room, back to the bathroom once more, only this time returning with a brush in hand. Thick, soft, but awfully tangled in a messy nest of waves, her hair was. She yanked a brush through it until it's waving frizzily framed her face. A disappointed groan echoed through the house once more in her dissatisfaction. She tried to style it, but her hair wouldn't stay in a neat bun, nor fall naturally beautiful, nor would it even pull into a ponytail. Time ran short and she ended up having to weave it into a side braid if she was going to have time to experiment with the makeup that Katherine gave her.

St. Mary's, surrounded by girls her age, and on rare occasions a man that was a teacher, she never needed makeup. Yet, this was a _public_ school. She would have to look presentable at the least. No baggy cardigan, no grandma skirt, and no nurses shoes. But makeup. Makeup was essential, or at least she imagined it was. Day girls, who lived out of the gates, and attended classes only during the day instead of live in the boarding houses, wore make up. They would hike up their grandma skirts, bring extra shoes, and lose the cardigan and unbutton their white blouses to intrigue whomever they wished outside of school. Deanna supposed that there were higher standards of beauty, but she'd never seen much of it. For that, she was grateful for being a boarding girl. She never stressed about looking good because she never really compared herself.

After several videos and charts later, she gave up. Covering her lightly freckled skin made her reflection look too foreign. She did have to admit that on her third try of putting on mascara that her eyes were better framed. Her lips ended up puffy from messing up her lip liner and rubbing it off. Abused, her lips were glossed over, and her clothes soon found their way over her pale skin.

Dark jeans, brown boots, white shirt, and a "fashionable" (as the tag read) army jacket. That was the best she could do. When she came downstairs, Charlie didn't mention the way she was dressed in comparison to the mismatched clothes from _The Salvation Army_ thrift store that she wore the day before. She thought he hadn't known the difference until he pointed out that she kept her necklace on.

It was on a silver chain, a locket. It was two wings, forming a heart, that opened to reveal a picture of her and Katherine. It was the one thing, the one material thing that she refused to live without.

Once Natalie Kuang, that same girl that had gotten so sick on a field trip that the bus was stranded near a music festival for hours, had seen it on her nightstand and tried it on. When classes started, she had forgotten to take it off. Deanna had refused to go to classes and had gone on a warpath, looking for it. Five girls had ended up crying and she had earned Saturday detention. After that, she chose to sleep with it on. The only time it came off her neck was when she was showering or getting dirtied with paint.

"Oh yeah... It's... _It's my lucky charm_ ," she smiled. In that moment, her fingers over the locket that rested over her heart, she felt comforted enough to stop tugging at her fitted shirt or pick at the sleeves of her jacket. She'd forgotten her nervousness with the novelty item.

Charlie tried to leave first, running off to the job he was practically married to despite the family pictures that rested over the small fireplace in the adjoining handkerchief-sized family room. She had noticed them the night before. In order from right to left was a wedding picture of Charlie and his ex-wife - Deanna had to wonder if he still loved her after all this time- and next was a picture of him, the ex, and a newborn. Deanna assumed this to be _Bella_. Even in baby form, the girl looked like a fragile porcelain doll. Then was ten school pictures of her, from first grade to sophomore year, a step by step display of her aging. That was when she had realized that Charlie didn't crave social inclusion, but rather closeness. He, just like her, was lonely. He didn't need someone to talk to him, just someone to exist in the same space as he did.

"Uncle Charlie?" She called, stopping him at the door, slipping her backpack straps over her shoulder, gripping one in each hand like a timid child. He paused, looking a deer caught in the headlights as he caught sight of her bright green eyes staring into his soul, a determined expression on her face. "Can you give me a ride?" She asked. "I don't trust myself to drive in this weather yet..."

A warm smile tugged onto his face. Success.

"Come on, Kiddo."

"We'll work on nicknames later," she promised, maneuvering around him and rushing to the passenger side of the vehicle. The whole ride, she picked at her braid and tapped her foot impatiently, pursing her lips, pouting, and then drawing in a deep breath until she saw the minuscule school. She'd gone from a four thousand students sized school that sat on forty-six acres, dorms included, to _this_? The color drained from her face, and she found herself groaning aloud.

"Something wrong?"

 _"It's tiny."_

"Is that bad?"

"In big schools, if you're new, it's no big deal since most students don't know many people anyways. Small schools? Well," she sighed, giving him a forlorn look. Charlie swallowed. Big green eyes staring into the soul, pleading for asylum, wasn't hard to turn away.

"At least the, um, _cool kids_ will know you," he optimistically cringed. She huffed, climbing out of the car, backpack on. "You can try wearing only one strap," he added, desperately wanting to help her.

"Messing up your back isn't cool anymore, Uncle Charlie," she joked half-heartedly, not wanting him to feel guilty. "Thank you," she added. And with a final wave, she took a breath and turned to face the music.

It was clearly a small town school made up of houses, built with maroon-colored bricks. Yup. Definitely small town. She quickly marched over to the door marked as "Front Office" and demanded a schedule. The plump red haired woman didn't appreciate her sarcastic jests, but Deanna was quick to decide that the woman was of zero importance to her. She had offered to walk her through how to go through classes, but Deanna quickly declined and rushed out.

Deanna was the kind of girl to hold grudges for even the slightest of actions.

Foolish? Maybe. Shameful of it? Not at all.

With so much green scenery swallowing Forks up, she blended in flawlessly, opting to take the longer routes, away from the sound of chattering students. She didn't want to make friends. She had one friend, the only one she needed, but Katherine was miles away. Deanna was set on rejecting almost every friendship offered. She knew it would make her stay sadder, it would make her fussy, and that was exactly what she wanted. Though she loved Charlie, she wanted her mother to know of her fury. Was it wrong for her to force herself to stay angry for the sake of revenge? She knew she should have felt guilty, but her moral compass struggled to point north more often than not.

The first period of the school day had passed by. English, regular. No AP classes for such a tiny school. She spent the whole class drawing stars in her journal and jotting down enough notes to survive until the next day. When the bell rang, a sad dying trill that sounded like it had been used for half a century, a lanky boy with dark eyes jumped in front of her before she could rush off.

"You're Deanna Walsh?" He asked with a bright charismatic grin that he definitely practiced in the mirror a few times.

"I sure hope so," Deanna answered dully. She should have had mercy on the poor boy, and she knew that. However, she also knew that based on how eager he was, he wouldn't back down with one deadpan from her.

"Where's your next class?" he asked, leaning closer to her, trying to get a look at her schedule. Defensively, Deanna stepped back, shoving her schedule in her bag.

"Building six," she answered, not giving him any more detail. The light in his eyes died out a little, and for a moment she felt regret before she reminded herself that she wasn't in school to make friends.

"I could show you the way there- I'm Eric," he added as a bright grin once upon his face.

"I'll take you up on that another day," she lied, moving by him as her rejection sunk in. She knew it was low to be so rude, but Deanna believed in doing things that made one feel satisfied at the end of the day, whether it was smiled or frowned upon. And her unwelcoming dismissal was, most certainly, frowned upon.

So, with her head held high, a strong expression on her face, she corrected her posture and continued to breeze through the day. She knew that the best way to prevent people from thinking she was weak was to present herself stronger than the rest. She would walk like a queen lest the world how truly terrified she was. She was a puppy trying to be a lone wolf. Still, her facade held for the rest of the morning. Her Trigonometry teacher was disappointed in her snippy comments.

"Why don't you introduce yourself?" He had asked her, holding her in front of the class. It was the socially appropriate form of public humiliation, to accost her in such a manner.

"Deanna Walsh," she said quickly, lips pressed tightly together after her short answer, glaring at the man. He was just trying to do his job, but she wouldn't have it.

"Tell us something about yourself," he prompted. Everyone in Forks seemed to be nosy. At St. Mary's, new students would take a seat and quickly learn that there was no sense in their education time being wasted for getting to know someone whose face would disappear from the mind in under two class periods later.

"I'm new."

She assumed that there were going to be a vendetta against her once quiet laughs filled the room causing Mr. Varner's cheeks to turn pink. She knew it wasn't smart to get on the wrong side of a teacher on the first day, but she was feeling rather hostile and had bellicosity written across a resting frown. Two classes later, one girl sat next to Deanna. Deanna had nothing to aid her once the girl had, oh so clearly, decided to ignore the "bitchface" that Deanna forced onto her features- though it wasn't hard to.

"You should join us for lunch!" The curly haired girl, that was taller by about two inches, insisted. Before she could decline, the girl was tugging her along. Her manicured hands were latched around Deanna's wrist, claiming her "new friend" as her own. Deanna couldn't help but scowl at the cafeteria. It was minuscule, circles of tables that helped identify clear cliques. Students were free to have lunch wherever they pleased on campus, but that was because lunches were in disposable bags or boxes. Friends would eat in the quad, in their rooms, classrooms...

She couldn't grab her lunch and retreat to an empty classroom. No, she chose to surrender for lunch and trudge after Jessica Stanley to her table with several of her friends. There was a blond-haired, blue-eyed, slightly baby-faced boy who could have easily been a small town, cowboy, beau in Texas. Then, to his right, was that black haired boy with the fine, dark eyes. He smiled and waved. Not wanting things to be awkward, she gave a half-hearted smile before sitting beside him. There was a pretty blond haired girl as well, and one with black thin rimmed glasses that made Deanna think of Katherine, but she didn't pay to mind much of them. The blond's smiles didn't reach her eyes, and glasses girl was too quiet to greet her.

She stayed long enough to make leaving less rude, but she didn't linger. As soon as her food was halfway gone, she fled the cafeteria. She had been rushing through the main entrance when she almost ran into a monster of a boy.

He was extremely muscular, a single flex would prove his muscles to most likely be bigger than her skull. Deanna could easily see him as a serious weight lifter or sports trainer. Under dark, curly hair was a chiseled face, but her greens focused on the pitch black of his. He had managed to slip out of the way, stopping her from tripping over a steep step. She had let out a sharp gasp as he pretty much caught her and set her back on her feet as if she was nothing but a feather of a girl.

"Careful there," he laughed, seeing her shock. Her eyes widened at the sound of his booming laughter. Her lips opened to form a witty retort, but a strangled noise came out instead.

 _Perfect response_.

"I-er-ah," no words were coherently coming out, and she shut her lips tightly once she realized this.

"Cool," he snorted, giving her an amused expression as he continued on his way, leaving a wide-eyed blinking girl stared after him. Only a single word left her lips.

"Steriods," she concluded, turning her back, yet faintly she heard that same booming laugh that made her do a double take. She quickly shook her blush away. There was _no_ way he could possibly hear her. Or, at least, that's what she told herself.

Her hand hastily dug into her bag, pulling out her phone. It was a gift from her mother, an apology. She hadn't talked to her mother. She hadn't used it at all. She didn't want to touch it. To use the gift would be to accept it, and she didn't _want_ to forgive her mother. She'd always been a stubborn child, but she would yield if it meant talking to Katherine.

Her heart pounded heavily in her chest as she waited. One minute passed and she grew nervous. Katherine promised. Two minutes passed and Deanna felt her heart die in her chest as she wondered if she'd actually get anything. Three minutes passed and soon it was five...

 _"Something wrong?"_

She nearly jumped at the sound of a velvety voice. Once again, her green eyes fell onto a boy with pale skin, impossibly straight features, and black eyes. Only this time, it wasn't the massive boy from earlier. This time, it was a lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-colored hair. Her eyes went wide, and she looked behind her and side to side, looking for someone else. That earned a laugh, a rather musical and well-paced laugh.

"Did I scare you?" He asked. A crooked smirk flashed onto his features, giving her a glimpse of pearly white teeth. The smirk, itself, sent shivers down her spine. They were whiter than snow, more than worthy of earning him a job for toothpaste commercials.

"No."

Her voice was blunt and she briefly cringed at its unattractive sound. She wasn't born with a soft feminine voice. No, she was born with the voice of a queen that's kingdom was stolen from her. Her voice was a war hammer in comparison to him. For a moment, she wanted to leave, not because he was attractive, but rather because she felt so inferior to him.

"Why? I don't scare you?" he asked. Deanna had the feeling that there was an inside joke in his words.

"No."

"Why not?" He asked, his smirk waning like the moon as he spoke.

"You're not scary," she answered simply, a smile coming upon her.

"Why not?" He prompted once more.

"Well, a boy like you is a pretty thing. Prettier than any of my step sisters," she laughed, a loud trill ringing through the air. She had the lungs of her father, loud, knowing not how to be quiet at the right times.

It was a simple exchange. However, it ended as quickly as it began. Her eyes focused on a runway-tall girl, golden hair cascading down her back and eyes as dark as Steroids Boy and Bronze Beauty. Bronze hair noticed her focus slip away from him. His back twisted and he was walking away before they could continue.

Deanna felt robbed. Perhaps she had gotten used to everyone's attentions and had begun to feel entitled to it. For this, she scolded herself. However, a small part of her knew that her infatuation with the bronze haired boy began in that moment. And if there was one thing Deanna Walsh didn't want, it was a crush. She hated the way her heart would race or the way she'd struggle to speak. She hated the way that her hands would get sweaty and she hated the way she was distracted by a pretty face or avid mind. To her, the only love that would ever reign true existed in friendship. Familial love was obligatory. Romantic love faded. The only love that was loyal to her was Katherine.

Her mother, her father, they never loved each other. There was an attraction but never love. It was, back in those days, right and proper to date, get married, and have children in that order. Their love faded, just like her grandparents had. If it wasn't infidelity, it was the bore of realizing that one didn't care for the other, or it would be the hatred that would build between the two.

Then there was familial love. It was the shackles made of bloodlines, chaining her to people who didn't want her, but couldn't leave her. Their family never left family behind, but they also would never let her go. Not living. Charlie understood this. When he married a young "hussie," he was shunned from their family. Their Christian family would _never_ give up on one of its members. They'd invite him to every family event, but he would always be seated on the outside, far from the happy guests and warmth of "bonding" and catching up. They wouldn't kick him out. They'd simply keep him by the door. Close enough to see himself on the outside despite still, technically, being inside. It was a cruel form of social exclusion. Part of her wondered if that's why Charlie was so broken.

 _The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb._

The love she would choose, the love that chose her, and the love that wasn't expected would always be stronger than the love that was obligatory. She knew some families were stronger and chose to love each other. However, hers was not. In her life, in her small universe that she existed in, love was something that brought nothing but pain. And that was why she didn't like crushes.

Deanna would have to condemn herself to be a masochist, for she was about to fall for the boy that should have never been hers to love.

* * *

 ** _Please review! Leave every thought and opinion. Detailed reviews are ideal, but just knowing that this fic is being enjoyed is enough to keep me going._**

 ** _What do you think of Deanna? What do you think of Katherine? What do you think is going to happen and what do you think will?_**


	3. Chapter 3

**Special thanks to GhostlySights.** **I try to avoid giving my oc's too tragic or too good lives. Deanna isn't poor, nor was she abused. However, she was lonely and a victim of a previous generation's mistakes. Deanna's not rich and entitled, and she acknowledges that her situation could be worse, and that doesn't make her pains invalid.**

 **I want Deanna to come off as human. I want her to be warm and kind, but also cold and cruel. I want her to be funny and serious, yet also the kind of girl who can be wrong because I've read so many oc's that are _innocent_ and _righteous_. Deanna is neither innocent nor righteous. She holds grudges, jealousies, and knowingly hurts people. She chooses wrong, but not enough to make her antagonized. I really tried to convey that she's both strong and weak. She longs for companionship to end her solitude, yet she rejects all companionship in fear of being rejected in the long run. In this, she's scared. She** **has this habit of humanity that shows that the kind of pain, the one that hurts the most and lingers the longest, can be the kind that we hold against ourselves.**

 **I'm glad to see that you enjoy this story.**

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 _"Dean?"_

"Katie!"

Deanna sighed in relief at the sound of Katherine's paced voice. It had been five minutes after _that boy_ left, five agonizing minutes of awkwardly shuffling outside trying to look like she was actually busy. Since the Cafeteria had large open windows, she tried to refrain from looking back inside to where Mike, Baby-Face, was, staring after her. She had begun to doubt that Katherine would call, despite their tear filled promises. And she had.

"How are you?" She heard Katherine ask carefully. Deanna let them sit in silence as she contemplated the question. With most people, she'd just tell them what they wanted to hear and be done with it, but most people weren't like Katherine. Katherine was the kind of girl that had the gift of strong empathy. It wasn't obvious to the common eye, but Deanna noticed. Katherine would pick up on other peoples emotions to where she, herself, would question what was really her feelings or the feelings of someone else reflecting on her. Deanna had picked up on this when she noticed how Katherine would, subconsciously, begin to assume someone else's speech patterns and posture when with them for too long. Every now and then Katherine would notice what was happening and try to stop herself. Deanna knew better than to pretend with a girl that knew others better than she knew herself.

"I think I'm fine," Deanna answered honestly. "It's only been a day really. Mom tried apologizing."

"And you accepted it?"

Deanna's pride was one of her more conflicting traits. There were times when it invoked her fury and kept her strong throughout the day, but in times like this, they were inhibiting her honesty. What did she want more, honesty or pride?

"Yes," she answered, cringing like the word was as sour as a lemon.

Katherine's laugh helped diffuse the tension that seemed to be growing in the silence.

Katherine was an empath. Perhaps that's what attracted Deanna so much. Being denied of others understanding her for years and then coming across Katherine, who saw her for exactly who she was the second that light and dark green met.

They were two young girls, filled with fantasies of running away. They would take each other's hand and run off into the sunset, away from their families. Katherine despised her family as much as Deanna, the only difference was why. Whilst Deanna's purposely shun her and pretend that the girl didn't exist, Katherine's genuinely forgot about her. Katherine's family gave her endless freedom, yes, but it was primary because they didn't care about her. Katherine was like a box that was forgotten when moving houses, and Deanna was something that was packed by mistake, something that was meant to be left behind.

It wasn't a surprise that the two would dream of traveling someplace new with a made up names. They'd become famous for doing things they loved. Katherine would score movies, and Deanna was going to be an author. They could imagine all the camera flashes, interviews, and fans. They would build an empire, a family, and they would never go back to being unwanted. They would be the ones with success, ambitions, and they'd conquer with only themselves to share the power with.

They wouldn't need husbands. They wouldn't need children. It would just be Katherine and Deanna, two queens, until the end of their time.

They had found each other, so innocent, still salvageable, with wonderstruck faces as they stared into the world that held a promise of happiness. Yet, something happened. They grew up.

The world was cruel, and it broke the beauty of innocent dreaming, revealing the false illusion of the reality they lived in. They found out that happily ever after didn't exist. They found out that getting close to their dreams meant to fight for them until they were blue in the face with bleeding arms and legs from crawling through hell to get what they wanted.

Katherine figured out that what she wanted was far out of her grasp. As much as America liked to pretend to be this white and shining ball of equality and justice, it wasn't. She found out the hard way that the color of her skin would bring hesitance when being hired. They both found out the hard way that being gay or bisexual would make her the target of social oppression. They found out that being a woman meant that they'd have to fight three times as hard to be just as successful as men at the same skill level as them.

And in the end, neither of the two felt pretty or talented. All they felt was worthless, wronged, and used.

Katherine stopped dreaming about scoring movies. Deanna stopped writing stories. Their dreams died young, and all they wanted was to make it to adulthood alive. And the very second they would gain their freedom, they planned on taking the only thing they had left, their dignity, and they'd get the hell out while they still could.

With their pride and self-respect being the only thing that they had left, Katherine understood that Deanna admitting even the simplest of truths, despite it showing that she would bend a knee to yield, was a sacrifice. It showed how much Katherine was trusted not to take Deanna's pride. And she wouldn't, hence the forced laugh. It was Katherine's silent way of comforting Deanna, telling the girl that nothing had changed between them.

"Do you like it there?" Katherine asked quietly. A part of her wanted her friend to be miserable without her, but the other part of her, the bigger part of her, wanted her friend to be happy.

Deanna weighted her thoughts as she wondered how to answer the question. Did she? She knew that she didn't hate Forks. It was cold, wet, and green. It was a perfect climate for her. Yes, she liked Forks, but did she like living there? Charlie was kind, and his house was simple, yet welcoming. She felt as if she fell into her element. Living with Charlie was like coming home from a long trip. So, she liked living there. Yet, something was missing. _Not something, someone_.

"I'd love it if you were here," Deanna said quietly, kicking the loose gravel.

"I would too. I don't know how much more of Mrs. Carnell I can take."

"Still a bitch?"

"Still a bitch."

Deanna let out a snort. Love may bind friends together, but so did hatred of the same people and things. _Hatred moves mountains._

"I was wondering if I could come down for Thanksgiving."

"Do it!" Deanna answered quickly. She knew better than to ask if Katherine's parents cared. Hell, Katherine could go out of the country and, so long as she wasn't arrested, her parents wouldn't care. "I miss you..."

"I miss you too."

"I love you, _Bitch_."

"Love you too, _Jerk_."

Deanna smiled, closing her eyes, waiting for Katherine to hang up. And when she heard the click, she felt more at ease. Looking back to the Cafeteria, she saw the group that seemed a bit too interested in looking like they weren't staring. Usually, Deanna would be irritated by people talking about her or staring, but she was at peace. Katherine truly brought out the best in her. And with her found peace came slight optimism, enough of it to return to the cafeteria and take part in small talk, as much as she hated doing so on an average day.

When her next period came, she almost ended up having to sit beside that same Bronze haired boy, but when she saw the lesson, she realized there was a mix up in her schedule. She'd taken biology her freshmen year, a sad fact seeing who could have been her science partner. She tried not to look so disappointed when she chose to pay a visit to the front office. One class swapped with Physics, and she ended up having a class with another pale-faced lab partner. Though the boy looked similar to Bronze Boy and Steroids, he was taller, leaner, but still muscular with honey blond hair that was longer, framing an unbelievably aesthetic face.

He gave her no greeting, but rather chose to stare at her with large black eyes.

"Staring is rude," she said, meaning to smile, but it never came onto her lips. He made no response, not even a glare. It was undeniably irritating. Deanna was a very lively girl. She was defiant. She was aggressive, manipulative, but also kind and friendly. She sought to get a rise out of people, whether it was good or bad. She cared not if she was hated or loved, but she did feel compelled to be important. The worst feeling in the world wasn't being hated. It was being insignificant. At least if one was hated, they'd still have meaning and purpose in life. To see him so _impassive_ was... There wasn't a word for what she felt.

The lesson was on an introduction to physics. Nothing was too hard. Hers and Katherine's next door neighboring schoolmates were older girls, and they had been taking physics. She never formally took the subject, but Deanna liked to think that she knew what was going on. It wasn't so complicated for a girl who was in Calculus already. The whole time, she couldn't help but watch him out of the corner of her eyes.

She noticed a few things. One, he never relaxed his stiff position on the edge of his chair, but she highly doubted that he was a physics enthusiast enough to have to restrain himself. For a brief moment, his pale hands rolled up the long sleeves of his tailored pale blue shirt. The speed and accuracy at how he did so impressed her. He'd clearly known how to handle nice fabric rather than to simply push them up. The action alone didn't capture all her attention. No, it was her slight shock when she saw how surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his light skin, faint purple-blue crescent patterns over them.

She didn't want to pry, but even she couldn't help but ask.

"What happened?"

Only then did his black eyes return to her. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck spike to attention. She tried to calm her heartbeat, which was strumming to the beat of a hummingbird's wings. Her lips shut tightly, regretting her words. She understood better than anyone that some questions were too invasive. Still, knowing that, she had asked anyways. She was right to be guilty. She muttered an apology and avoided looking at him for the rest of the class.

When the bell rang, she didn't hesitate. She just slung her bag over her shoulders and sped off. She didn't need to see his possible aggression. No one could ever punish oneself better than themselves.

Physical Education was her last class of the day. Back at St. Mary's only one credit, _one single credit_ , was required. Of course, she opted for the one sport she was decent at, swimming, but no. Forks was dissatisfied with such and made it mandatory for _all_ years. What fresh hell this was for Deanna. Still, she was too tired to oppose a rather rabid looking teacher, so she donned a pair of unflattering shorts and tank before speeding off to try to whack a ball around for an hour before school was let out. And when that bell finally rang, she was free.

She, out of habit, undid her now wavy hair, not bothering to brush it into frizziness, nor calm it to smoothness. No, she just let her hair catch in the air as she hurried outside, eager to feel the rain on her cheeks. And once the cool kisses from the sky rained upon her, eyes falling closed, she felt at peace. She let her arms stretch outwards as if holding out her hands for a prayer. Deanna was a romantic at heart. She didn't find purpose in religion, nor did she find it in the sciences of a book. She found herself at peace in the simplest of things. She found it in the morning lights streaming through her window, calling her forth to a new day. She found it in the sheer emotion that brought her to tears from the music playing from Katherine's violin. And, she found it in the rain, mother nature's cleansing tears that seemed to wash away her negativity and breath life into her.

Rain was renewal.

And it rained constantly in Forks.

A smile overcame her facial features, a faint laugh of relief tumbled out of her mouth as she let her left hand fall to her side, but her right hand's fingers curled delicately around her silver locket. The rain wasn't the same peace that Katherine brought, but it was a close second. And with the cold caress of water upon her face, hair clinging to her skin, she felt Katherine's presence with her, soothing her worries.

Her eyes opened, vivid greens obscuring the grey of the sky background, she focused on a group of people in the distance. Their straight features, statuesque postures, and alienated location did more than draw the eye. They looked like an impressionist's painting. They were not in the center view, but they were the center of attention.

Each and every single one of them looked to be crafted, _sculpted,_ planned over decades, perfectly by the hands of Michaelangelo, Donatello, or Bernini. Deanna knew little involving human anatomy, but she knew for a fact that these people were the epitome of perfection. And, the strangest part, they seemed to be just as puzzled by her as she did them- though, theirs seemed to be met in glares, whereas Deanna's eyes could only admire their beauty from a distance, not feeling worthy enough to taint their exemplary appearance with her "at par" features.

Thankfully, her attention was ripped to the sight of Charlie's arrival. Ignoring the change in the student body, nervous from the _cop_ in their midst, Deanna felt her smile return as she pleasantly strolled to the vehicle, as if she had done so a thousand times over. The thought of the living art that walked the halls of Forks high faded as Charlie admitted that he had tried to cook a pie, her favorite of all foods, only to burn the edges.

Deanna, though a tad disappointed in that Charlie had cut away at her pie, stopped him from throwing it away when they had gotten home. To his surprise, and hopeful eyes, Deanna bluntly snatched the fork out of his hands and forbid him from ever throwing out a pie unless it was right and proper and _approved_ to be honorably disposed of. In truth, her theatrics had been improvised upon the sight of happiness and pride swelling in his eyes. Like it or not, she was just as attached to Charlie as he was to her.

What could she do or say? He was her father, not in blood or in legality, but he was her father in that she respected, cared for, and sought to make him proud. Charlie was in desperate need for feeling secure, self-worth, and cared for. He longed for a daughter, and a part of him did feel guilty that he wasn't forming a relationship with his actual daughter, but Deanna was with him in Forks. Deanna _chose_ to be there. Though Charlie hated to admit it, but his actual daughter didn't seem to care very much for him. Was he still obligated to love her before Deanna? That was for him to decide. It was frowned upon in society to not love one's child above all else, yet Deanna defied society. She chose to use her brain which deduced that blood meant nothing but red shackles. Could Charlie deny that same blood? He knew that he would never stop caring or loving Bella- She was his _daughter_. However, could he love her before his surrogate daughter? And therein lied his guilt.

Deanna didn't feel the guilt. She knew that she should feel guilty for causing such a conflict, and she felt slightly guilty over _not_ feeling guilty. Yet, at the same time, she tilted her chin up proudly away from Shame and Guilt, humanity's common foes, and decided that happiness, pride in being loved and chosen to be loved, was too scarce to pass off. She cared not for any judgement anyone else passed. She had found, at a young age, that pleasing people before herself was the quickest way to misery, and misery loved constant company.

So, when Deanna noticed the guilty look that followed Charlie's smile, she felt the need to shout, to voice her jealousy over Bella. Yet she held her tongue. Charlie didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve to be forced into choosing. He deserved to be happy. There was a difference in pleasing others for themselves, and pleasing others out of love. She loved him. She wasn't tearing herself apart for him. She wasn't setting herself on fire to keep his tender heart warm.

No. She was just choosing not to voice her thoughts, no matter how loudly they screamed in her head.

She expected her envy to fade away just as all problems in the world.

Ignoring problems or issues was a very humanly acceptable thing to do.

"Just look at the economy," she muttered under her breath.

"Huh?" Charlie grunted, looking at her under confused furrowed eyebrows.

"Nothin'."

* * *

 ** _Please review! Leave every thought and opinion. Detailed reviews are ideal, but just knowing that this fic is being enjoyed is enough to keep me going._**

 ** _What do you think of Deanna? What do you think of her friendship with Katherine? What do you think is going to happen and what do you hope to happen?_**


	4. Chapter 4

It was the same moaning and groaning scene that Charlie had seen the day before. Hair just as messy, whale-like noises bouncing off of the walls along with the sound of shuffling feet. Charlie's face read of slight distress as he seemed to wonder if that is how all mornings would be, which, on school days, would be. Still, he couldn't help but smile at the sounds after the distress fell. The sounds, as unflattering as they sounded, were filling the silence that had plagued him for too long. It had been two days, and Deanna seemed to show a routine. This meant that she was comfortable enough to begin one here, which, to Charlie, was a good thing. It meant that she was adjusting, settling. It was her roots digging into the soil, and Charlie was thrilled at the idea of seeing her begin to grow, firmly planted in Forks.

"You driving to school today, Deano?" Charlie asked, wiping the crumbs from his toast out of his beard when he heard the girl's loud footsteps near the kitchen. Her hair was falling from the loose braid she had managed to tug it into, and her jacket was wrinkled and unevenly hanging. For a moment, he wondered what kind of alien had wandered into his life, but he quickly remembered Deanna never needed to care much for her appearance. She had existed in a place where girls never had to claw their way towards society's standards of beauty. Internet only lasted for a set amount of hours and was restricted to only school appropriate sites. Cell phones were often confiscated if they were on during school hours, so it was no wonder that most girls existed in a bliss far from the scum of expectations.

"Getting sick of driving me around?" She fired back at him, already knowing the answer.

"Of course not."

"Then, of course not," she repeated with a cheeky grin.

This had become their morning ritual for the rest of the week. Charlie's smile at her response never dulled, and Deanna's enthusiasm hadn't faded either. Charlie tried to question the girl about her day, knowing full well what it was like for family to act as if one didn't exist. Deanna would give him the basics, which would include gossip from Jessica, a pun from Eric, and what she learned. None of which included any word of "Jasper Hale" or any of the Cullens. Charlie hadn't thought much of how she mentioned everyone except the Cullens, deducing that Deanna wasn't as swayed by the family's uncanny presence. In truth, Deanna noticed. She just tried to force her curiousity out of her system, trying to focus more on her schooling than on them. She didn't want to end up returning the same treatment that she had gotten her whole life. It wasn't so hard, seeing as the Cullens hadn't returned to school.

By the time Monday strolled through the front door, Deanna had settled into Forks. She had her morning routine with Charlie, an afternoon tradition as well. She had her walking partners for in between periods, and even Angela Webber offered to become study partners in their Statistics class. Nothing was too difficult for Deanna, since she was taking all regular since Forks lacked the funding for any successful AP classes. Her only problem came having to finish a partner project alone since Jasper hadn't been there to offer any assistance. It wasn't that she was particularly bad at Physics, quite the opposite actually. She was just awfully lazy when it came to finishing lengthy assignments.

When their wet and green town cloaked itself under a sheet of snow, Deanna couldn't have been more excited. Whilst most people saw the snow as something cold, silent, _isolating_ , drowning out life with it's pale rains, Deanna saw the snow as something that was pure and cleansing. In her eyes, winter, snow specifically, was rebirth. It was so excitable that Mike Newton had pointed out how life seemed to fill her eyes with delight as soon as her eyes set upon the snow.

"So you like the snow, huh?" He asked. All he was given was an eager nod.

When lunch droned on, Deanna was the first outside. She didn't take part in tossing snow at other students, nor did any other person chuck a snowball at her. And, just like on her first day at school, her hands rose in the air, feeling the snow's burning kisses dance across her reddening skin. The balls of her feet shifted into the mushy ground, crunching lightly as she kicked off in a spin. One... Two... Three... Four... She continued spinning.

That is, until she heard laughter behind her back. Her upper body twisted, eyes opened, momentarily blinded by the bright snow. It was Jessica and Angela, both staring at her with wistful eyes. There was something _strange_ about Deanna. To an outsider, she was just being silly in the snow, but after a while, they had noticed something. Deanna wasn't simply enjoying the snow, she was being liberated by it. There was this smile on her face. It wasn't polite, nor was it as brief as usual. No, this one was wide, _proud_ , and above all, it was genuine.

"Hn?"

"Don't you want food?"

"Always."

Lunch passed, eyes following the girl that was miles from Forks, caught up in the clouds that delivered the snow. Physics arrived, and she finally noticed a pale faced, blond haired boy beside her. As soon as her eyes met the blacks of his, her smile died into slight contempt. She wouldn't lie to herself and act as if his previous treatment hadn't affected her. She was rather accepting of people's dislike of her, so long as there was a reason behind the disliking, of course. As far as she knew, he didn't have a reason to hate her yet. _But_ , if he was going to treat her unkindly regardless, she wasn't going to waste her time being angry. She'd hold her ground of civility so long as he had.

She took notice of how he seemed to watch her. He didn't look at her with as much as much contempt as she was throwing in his direction, but he wasn't looking at her as a normal person would. No. She could _feel_ it. His eyes followed her every move, observing, analyzing her as if she were some sort of anomaly. Of course, she was watching him, just as much as he was, but her's was purely out of spite. At the sound of the bell, she had her bags packed away and was out of the classroom before most could even stand up. She couldn't stomach the staring for much longer. At least, not without losing her temper and accosting him under the eyes of their fellow students.

In her gym class, Deanna found herself actively participating in the oldest sport known to the cliche stereotypes of high school. There was a line of balls, two teams, with a sole goal in mind: Dodge. Of course, Deanna wasn't as sporty as most teenagers. She hated sports that involved running, jumping, or catching. Swimming was her sport exception. However, on this day, Deanna found herself frustrated. And if there was one thing Deanna could be fueled by, it was her aggression. While she could be passive and observant, not wanting to actively interfere with many aspects of the life surrounding her, she could be just as fiery and destructive. She was a patron to the arts of fiery rage and freezing apathy.

By the end of the period, Mike Newton was trailing after her, wincing still from when she nailed him to the wall with a nasty ball to the gut. She never apologized, still riled up from her anger towards Jasper Hale, but she humored him to compensate. Somehow, she had agreed to be on his team for the next time their coach decided that he wanted to watch teens slaughter one another with dodge balls. And, with an excited, boyish smile, Mike had walked her to Charlie's cruiser, waving goodbye a little too eagerly.

"So the Newton Boy-"

"Charlie, no!"

Charlie swiftly apologized and fell silent. After some time, Deanna looked to him, and patted his shoulder.

"I appreciate you're care," she added.

Charlie's spirit seemed to lighten up, thankfully. It wasn't her intention to hurt or embarrass him. The last person she'd want to hurt would be someone like Charlie. He was proving to be the parent she always longed for. Despite the clumsy, ill-timed inquiry, he did genuinely care about Deanna. Just caring enough to want to get to know her was more than she ever received from her mother. He, of course, thought that his parental skills were lacking. Bella's repulsion of him and Forks did a number on his confidence of being a good father. One look from Deanna, every smile, hug, or laugh soothed the burn like the snow.

The next morning was much like the day prior, only whiter, roads sleek and smooth from the ice. There was toast, coffee, cereal too. Charlie didn't ask if Deanna wanted a ride, not wanting her first time driving in Forks, her first time driving in over a year, to be on ice. Deanna had been telling him of tales from St. Mary's, Katherine reporting how winter was impacting the campus as it usually had. Charlie had heard the story before, but there was a light in her eyes that he didn't want to dim. By the time they reached the school, Deanna had quieted down. She had waved him goodbye, just as she usually had when he began to pull away.

His eyes were watching her smile as he began to pull out of the parking lot, but her smile had fell into horror. He saw her mouth move, and her body turning, shielding herself.

Deanna had seen it. She had noticed the loud, high-pitched screech before her eyes found it's origin. It was Tyler's blue van, skidding with tires locked. Tyler had tried to stop it, but it was too late, and the breaks only caused the van to begin to spin wildly across the ice of the parking lot. It took two seconds before Deanna realized that there was no stopping him. By the time she cried out, there was glass in the air, a loud crunch as Tyler's van smashed into a shiny volvo.

She had been in the way, that enough she had been certain of. Yet, when she heard the collision, she hadn't felt anything besides pressure around her hips and back. Opening her eyes, she found herself against something solid and cold, pinning her to the icy ground. Her eyes followed the long white arms that were seemingly secured on her hips, finding herself looking at none other than Jasper's brother: Edward. His eyes were black, worriedly staring into hers. For a second, she was entranced, forgetting about the frenzy of people clamoring to their aid, just staring into his eyes in shock.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice low, velvety, and full of worry.

"I'd probably be more alright if you, you know, _get off of me_ ," Deanna bluntly answered after an awkward pause. A confused smile spread across his features.

"I save your life and the first thing you say is to get off of you? I would assume there's minimal pain then," he chuckled, gingerly climbing off of her before offering her a hand. When she took his cold, pale hands, she just as quickly let go as she took it.

"The only pain in my life is your ego," she snapped just as quickly, not wanting to look at him any longer in fear that she'd be swayed by his looks. She always has a keen weakness for beauty and excellence.

From her eyes, Edward Cullen and his family were a reminder of exclusivity. Though she was used to being on the outside, that didn't mean that she liked it. It had always been her versus the Big Bad World, but ever since she had a taste of what it was like to be liked, she didn't want to let it go. This is probably why she indulged Mike, Tyler, and Eric so much. She knew that it was wrong, and _boy did she know it,_ but she couldn't help liking it. Her whole childhood was based on being rejected, dismissed, and loathed for little to know reason - half of the time, that is. Deanna did, in fact, retaliate to their negativity with her own, thus leading to more rejection, dismissal, and hatred. So, when these three guys came along, infatuated with her, something she never even experienced before, having gone to an all girl's school, she allowed herself to be selfish.

She tried not to indulge them past friendship, never flirting, but she would use their liking of her as an advantage. She knew it was a terrible thing, to play with boys feelings, and she told herself that she'd stop soon. She'd maintain friendship, which was more than the Cullens ever offered. The whole lot seemed to treat her as some kind of danger to their happiness. For that, Deanna held a grudge.

There was a pungent moment of silence before he asked, "Have I offended you?"

Deanna paused for a moment, contemplating her answer.

"Yes... Yes, you have."

She quickly turned on her feet, and before he could stop her, Charlie Swan was already consumed in his surrogate daughter, trying to make sure she was safe and sound.

"Dee!" Charlie sighed in relief, pulling the shorter girl into his arms. "Jesus! I could've sworn that you'd be hit!"

Deanna's smile faltered. She cast a look back to where Edward Cullen once stood, but he was gone. She couldn't remember him being anywhere near her when it happened, but she shrugged it off. Memories were never truly reliable.

"One of the Cullens pushed me out of the way- tackled me more like it," she shortened, placing her hand on his shoulder. She could practically feel the fear radiating off of him. "Calm down, Dad. I'm not going anywhere."

She hadn't meant to say it, but she didn't dare try to hide what she had said either. Once she had said it, Charlie's face lit up like a child on Christmas day, and she wasn't going to take that away from him. Not when she herself didn't want to take back her words. She quickly changed the subject, washing over her slight blunder when she asked if she could take off for the rest of the day. Even though she hadn't an ulterior motive when she had called her uncle "Dad," she couldn't help but be pragmatic and use the situation to her liking.

Poor Charlie didn't have the heart to say no, and gave her the day, pulling his badge when the time came.

That night, Charlie had gone to bed with a smile on his face, and that was when he truly felt free of his guilt for loving Deanna like a daughter, more than Bella. It was the night that he realized that family, the _real_ kind of family, it didn't end with blood, and it didn't start there either.

Deanna, on the other hand, had gone to sleep just as fast. Only, on this night, she didn't dream of Katherine or Charlie, nor did she have a nightmare of being pulled out of her new life in Forks, which she had begun to embrace. No, on that night, she dreamed of that bronze haired boy with pale skin and honey and black eyes. It was the first night that she would dream of him, which would be a reoccurring appearance for the next month- much to her dismay.

She would always wake, with a betrayed sensation when her heart burned with attraction. Those dreams distracted her while the school began to center it's attention on Tyler, who was the only one hurt from the accident. Of course, with this new found attention, he had asked her out to some seasonal dance to which she swiftly declined on the basis that she "didn't want to go." She didn't lie, nor did she spare his feelings much, but after Mike and Eric struck out, the three seemed to be more at ease once they realized that Deanna genuinely didn't want to go. And, with them bothering her less about the dance, she had time to pay more attention to Edward _fucking_ Cullen.

Thinking about him was the last thing she wanted. It was distracting, frustrating, and by far a hindrance on her academic career, lowering her GPA by a full .04 points. She had to argue her way to a different time table to avoid Jasper Cullen, another reminder of Edward. Only, then came another, bigger, problem. With her schedule change, she ended up in the same English class as the one person she was trying to avoid.

She made it no secret that she wasn't fond of being near him.

No.

No, that was the problem. She was fond of being near him, and it was the most aggravating of things. She wasn't supposed to like him. She wasn't supposed to be attracted to some boy that made others feel as insecure, as _faulty_ , as she had felt her whole life. Yet, she couldn't help it much. The key word being "much." When she had to sit beside him in class, she sat as far away from him as possible. When he would speak to her, briefly, she would just look at him out of the corner of her eye and either nod or shake her head accordingly. She had imagined she would be met with hostility, anger at her for treating him like how she thought he wanted to treat everyone else. Yet, he proved her wrong.

He sounded genuinely pained because of this.

And then she felt guilty. Which infuriated her even more!

She could have dealt with it with time. She could have shoved it deep down into her stomach, and let the guilt slowly become a part of her existence. At least, that's, until, she felt a cold hand over her own.

 _"Deanna."_


	5. Chapter 5

Katherine was worried. There was this pain in her heart, and it was _killing her_. She thought she could stomach it. She thought that she could endure until the next year, that she'd be able to make it, that she wasn't as addicted to Deanna as she was. But she was _dying_.

All her life, she had been alone. All her life, she had looked out unto the world, realizing that every person in her life, every single person in her life, could exist without her. She was forgettable. She was expendable. She was insignificant. For so long, she had existed in this state of living where she was grey. Her movements had become sluggish, the light in her eye slowly fading from the inferno of joy in youth to the bare flicker in adulthood. Her hopes, her dreams... They meant nothing if she had no one to share them with. How could they?

She was human, in the truest form of the word. Her mere existence was defined by her ability to think, to _feel_ , and to share. She saw beauty in life. She saw this tragedy that most were content with bustling through life, but her? She couldn't. Everything she saw, everything she heard or touched, it became etched into her existence. All that color, the music, and roughness that characterized humanity became a part of her. She took in _everything_. Yet, she only came to find out that no one had wanted to take her in. No one wanted to know her, to share her life. That was the first part of her life.

Katherine's life hadn't mattered until someone decided that she did. That was the sad part in life. One could never have meaning alone.

She could still remember what Deanna had told her when the news that she'd be leaving St. Marys came.

Deanna had been holding her tightly, their shaking breaths on each other's neck. They were clinging to each other like a dying person clung to life because, essentially, that's what they saw each other as. And when Katherine pleaded, weeping painfully as her heart pulled out of her chest when Deanna let go, Deanna to promise to never forget her, Deanna looked her in the eyes and said, "A million nights could pass and I would still remember you so detailed as you are before me."

It had been so bittersweet, for those to be their last words besides, "I love you." And though Katherine wanted them to be true, she couldn't help but wonder...

When Katherine fled the academy, she had bleeding hands and tear stained cheeks. Her room was left in ruins. Every mirror shattered, every picture frame broken. She couldn't stand it. Deanna was fading away. In her mind, Katherine could feel it, her memory waning and contorting. And then she saw them, the pictures. Every smile, frown, smirk, or "bitchface" that Deanna wore in them would never satisfy Katherine because she _knew_. All those pictures of the two of them, she couldn't help but feel shattered that they didn't feel alive. Those memories, the feeling soaked in them, were drying. And that _killed_ her. What was even worse was when some poor freshmen girl came to room with her. All of Deanna's left over things were moved out. Katherine hadn't meant to be so hostile to that little red haired, freckle faced, pixie of a girl, but it all felt so, so _wrong_.

She knew. She knew so, so, so many years ago that Deanna was a danger. She knew that if she let herself, Deanna would make her go insane.

And she did.

Katherine Marks had ran away...

... For _her._

She couldn't help it. Her life had became so consumed with Deanna. Her past and her future came from Deanna Walsh. Her life had split into two parts the moment that green eyed girl stepped into her life: Before her and After her.

She could feel it in her bones. She didn't know exactly when it had happened, but her whole existence had begun to blur with Deanna's. She had tried to separate herself from Deanna. They had become so codependent, and Katherine thought that the distance would be good for the both of them. She would be freeing herself from Deanna, and Deanna freeing herself from Katherine.

But they were the same.

They were conjoined. There could never be one without the other. And, it was obvious now that neither of them could survive separation. It was too painful. The two of them thought it would be Deanna to cave first. Deanna, the girl who was being forced away. But no. She still had Charlie. But what did Katherine have?

She couldn't stop it. She couldn't stop herself from letting rage and frustration and everything that Deanna made her, keep her from thinking responsibly. Because she was liberated. Deanna had liberated her existence. She had a taste of freedom, of happiness. The shackles would never come back on. She wouldn't be enslaved to suffocating because it was "necessary and proper."

Katherine wanted to feel a breath of fresh air in her lungs. Without Deanna, without her other half, life was pure Hell. It was the feeling of razors being forced down her throat, before setting aflame inside of her lungs and sending fire through her veins as she burned from the inside. It was, without a doubt, the worst feeling in the world, to feel Death breathe into her lungs and hold her close enough to see her fate, yet cast her away all because life was so cruel to her. To make her live life when her heart was on the other side of a continent.

She just wanted to breathe again, and the only air that wasn't toxic was the air around _her._

For that reason, Katherine felt no fear when she boarded a plane for Forks, Washington.

She was going home.

And Deanna could feel it.

When the dawn of a new day came, there was no moaning and groaning. There was no ghoulish girl clawing her way to the bathroom before lazily donning on clothes. Charlie had noticed it first. For a moment, he had to wonder if something was in the air. Or, though it frightened him, maybe in her. When he went downstairs to make the coffee, expecting her to wake any minute, there she was. She was humming a tune that he recognized as the one she usually fell asleep listening to. It was that same violin music that put her to ease.

When her green eyes found him, a smile came onto her face, and she was glowing. Her skin was bright, radiant even. Her eyes were bright, hair was let down loosely to frame her fair face, and then there was her clothes. She was tidy. Her flannel was buttoned, army jacket ironed, and even her skinny jeans were tucked neatly into boots that he had yet to see her wear. And, proudly, around her neck was that same locket that never came off. Only, today it seemed to be on display.

"Are you pregnant?" Charlie blurted out.

The humming stopped.

"W-What?" Deanna stammered, neck almost snapping broken when her eyes shot to him. And in those green eyes, that had once been so delighted, was rage. "Charlie, why the hell would you ask that." It wasn't a question. It was a demand.

"You... You... You just... I've never seen you this happy- I'm so sorry," he quickly said, realizing his mistake. Deanna's eyes remained hardened, but her hamartia would always be the people she loved. Sighing, she quickly forgave him.

"Do you want a ride?" Charlie asked. From the angry look on her face from a few moments ago, part of him wondered if she wanted to ride with him.

"Of course I do."

And that's how that day had began. Her happiness subsided, but not completely, yet that same peculiar feeling of giddiness faded with Edward Cullen's presence. And it all but vanished when she felt his cool hand on her own, and heard her name leave those same pale lips.

Green eyes met golden. And she melted.

 _Damn his sorry ass_ , she thought to herself when she felt a blush on her lightly freckled cheeks at the sight of his worried expression. Those shaped eyebrows furrowed, lips parted with unspoken words, and tired eyes almost faulting that same white skin that annoyed her since she had ever to find any large pores let alone pimples. His face was so symmetrical, that even when looking distressed, he looked like a sculpture that should have been cherished for millions of years. This alone was enough to bring an irritated huff out of her own pink lips as she drew away from him as if his skin was on fire.

"What do you want?" She asked sharply, keeping her eyes narrowed, not even giving the illusion of trust.

"Have I offended you?" He asked quietly, beginning to gather his things.

"No."

"Then why are you so _repulsed_ by me?" He asked.

Now, here was the problem. While Deanna wasn't above lying, she didn't want to outright say why she was so angry. Though it was childish and hypocritical to treat him the way she had, and though she could admit that it was childish, she would rather be honest to anyone but him. Doing so would admit to fault. Doing so would give him ammunition in the future, and in a life made up of anyone outside of her loved ones being the enemy, that wasn't a wise more. For that reason, Deanna simply opted to correct him.

"I'm not repulsed by you. I just don't want to like you," she bluntly said, grabbing her binder and swiftly making her way to the cafeteria. She didn't have to talk to him if there was food in her mouth. She just hadn't anticipated that he would follow her, even plucking her heavy binder out of her hand. _How chivalrous..._

"Might I at least inquire why you don't want to like me?" He asked, a soft chuckle sounding through those lips. She could feel her heartbeat race forward at the pleasant sound.'

"Because."

"What a mature answer," he replied wryly. Her lips curled into a slight snarl as she stepped into the line behind Mike Newton. She line jumped in front of him, wanting to put distance between her and Edward. She was in the middle of getting soggy looking chicken nuggets when she heard a grunt. Her head snapped right, and saw Mike almost be lifted from the ground. Edward's fist had shot out, bunching Mike's already wrinkled t-shirt up, and pulled Mike behind him as if he, that same baby faced Californian, was nothing more than a worn up rag doll. Mike stammered like a fish, lips moving, meaning to say something along the lines of defending _her_ honor, but, alas, no words came out. Though, Deanna never needed a man, much less a boy, fight her battles. She was a woman. She was more than capable of standing on her own.

"What the hell do you want from me!" She hissed, gruffly snatching her tray from the server.

"A chance."

"Fat chance," she retorted, turning on her feet after she grabbed a water. She could hear a loud sigh behind her as she took her seat at Jessica's table. Not surprisingly, Jessica, Angela, Tyler, and Eric were all gawking at her. Jessica looked the most furious.

Here was this boy, in her eyes perfect, _too perfect_ , for anyone. And, along comes this girl, who came under the guise of a friend, one up her by rejecting the one boy who rejected every girl, including her. That alone was a knife digging deep in her chest. What had Deanna had that Jessica didn't? Jessica stood at 5'1", though not tall, she could be deemed "cute." And then there was that stunning voluminous curly, dark brown hair and blue eyes. Jessica was _lovely_ and she had one of the most outgoing and "go-getter" personality. She had more stories, more talents than Deanna.

Jessica didn't see it. She didn't see it because, like many, Jessica had eyes, but she never saw things as they really where. She was a classic American, bound by consumerism, ambition, and competitive nature. She lived life on the crust, only wanting what she had been taught to want: A boy, a job, and a happy life. Jessica never questioned life. She never questioned why people want what they do, do what they do, or even are who they are. She was a lively girl, but she was a river in comparison to the ocean. She was steady, calculated, but she wasn't as deep as the vast sea that stirred unpredictably. There was nothing wrong with her though. There were men and women alike who would covet women like Jessica, but those people did not include Edward Cullen. For that, she found it in her to plant a seed of distaste for Deanna Walsh.

Angrily, the girl began stabbing at those same soggy nuggets, ignoring peoples stares.

"Deanna."

"No means _no_. When a girl says it, she means it!" Deanna snapped.

And that was when the front two legs of her chair lifted off the ground, as the back two began to screech. Deanna drew in a sharp breath as panic filled her eyes. Her hands latched onto the bottom of the chair for balance, and before she knew it, she was seated at an empty table across the cafeteria from where she usually sat. And, there before her was Edward Cullen, looking at her as if she was the one causing distress - which she was - and burdening his life. He was treating her like a child, and that was one thing she wouldn't stand for. She saw his tray on the table, and she stole the green apple off of the tray and hurled it at him. To her surprise, he caught it with one hand. His eyebrows were raised as if it were some cliche action she did constantly.

"You're a savage."

"And you're an asshole."

A small snort sounded, making Deanna's nose scrunch up in disgust. She was being hostile, rejecting every single word he said, and he had the _audacity_ to laugh at her. A bitter lemony taste flooded into her heart at every beat of his laughter. No matter how attractive as anyone appeared to be, that wouldn't save them from the wrath she'd incur upon said person for finding a mockery in her. Silently, she began plotting a reckoning for the guy before her, her head shaking slightly with contempt. He was digging himself his own grave.

Not oblivious, he noticed her genuine anger building behind her green eyes and clenching fists. He didn't take her for a violent woman, but then again, he hadn't thought of her as a vulgar woman either. Though he applauded how many times she seemed to surprise him, he was certain that he didn't want her delivering a fist to his face. At least, not such lovely hands as hers that had slightly long slender fingers and constellations of light freckles on the back of her hands. And so, his face sobered up rather quickly, and his composure was returned to his usual charming, crooked smile.

"I'm sorry. It's been a _long_ time since I've met someone like you."

"Someone like me?" she echoed, wondering if she should take offence.

"Someone who would rather be with _them_ than swooning at the sight of my family," he clarified, looking to her old table. As soon as his eyes hit them, the five quickly averted their eyes, acting as if they weren't watching. Deanna scoffed openly, but secretly wondered the same.

She wasn't immune to the appeal of the Cullen family. The most _beautiful_ were Jasper and Rosalie Hale, Deanna could say this despite knowing that both seemed to have an obvious hatred of her. For what, she didn't know, but she was too bitter to even inquire why. However, the most mystical would have to be Alice, a striking little pixie that always smiled and waved, but she kept her distance from Deanna as well. The most appealing to Deanna was Emmett Cullen. She was certain of it, having woken flustered from a dream that had him cast as the "leading man." It was one of the few things Deanna was shamed by, but she was thankful for having the solitude of her mind. However, Edward wasn't _not_ attractive. He was remarkably handsome with youthful features that were chiseled enough to make him look like a man, but a young one. He was the holder of second place of most attractive to her.

Despite being admirable of their beauty, that was all there was. Her mind was miffed by their appearance, but she tried not to let that stop her from despising each and every one of them.

"I'm not immune. I just dislike you more than I like your looks."

"And why is that?" He asked, still wearing that crooked smile that made her internally scream momentarily. She just wished that he would turn away for a moment for her to answer, just for a second so she could gather her thoughts in order prior to be put under a spotlight. " _Because_ , the thing is, I don't think you hate me. I don't even think that you dislike me. What I think is that you do not like liking me. My question is simple: Why?"

"You tell me. You seem to already have it in your head that you know what I think, so why don't you just read my mind," she sarcastically threw back at him.

 _"Believe me. I'm trying."_

Her expression faltered momentarily. There was something in his voice, in his tone, that felt double sided. It wasn't simply sarcasm. There was this feeling, this nagging feeling of familiarity when he said that, as if it were some inside joke. Only, the fault in that was the mere fact that she wan't on the inside. For a brief moment, she wondered if he could do just that. However, she quickly disregarded the rather unlikely thought and pursed her lips once more. She knew that she could walk away. He couldn't make her stay. She just had to hope that he wouldn't notice that she willingly sat in front of him. The last thing she wanted was for him to find out that he had an effect on her, one very useful effect, should he ever need it. She crossed one leg over the other, and reclined back into her chair.

"If you want an honest answer, why don't you be honest with me?" She offered, only to earn a raising an eyebrow. Judging by the look upon his face, she had to wonder how could he ever think that she would just be honest without anything in return? How much had he overestimated her goodness? "Quid pro quo, quid pro quo," she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes. And, once again he laughed.

"Perhaps another day, _Clarice_." As soon as his lips closed, his eyes focused behind her. "I think your friends are upset that I've stolen you."

"You cannot steal me if I never belonged to them."

"Yet, you are here and haven't left me in the dust," he challenged with a smirk.

 _So he had noticed..._

"You know, _Deanna Walsh,_ may not give you back to them," he mused. "You are a rare soul to come across, and I do not let scarce beauties escape me."

"Flattery gets you nowhere, _Cullen_."

"It kept you here."

"I'm curious, nothing more," she said swiftly, standing from her seat defiantly. Letting him be right, letting him continue to act as if he had full control of the situation was one thing she wasn't going to let slide by. No matter how interesting he was, no matter how curious she had become, her pride would give her the strength to prove him wrong. Turning her back, she moved to return to her table, but halfway there, she paused, and looking over her shoulder, she spoke to him.

 _"Do not pretend to know me, when you know nothing."_

* * *

 ** _I did not ask for reviews on the previous chapter, so to those who did, THANK YOU! I would also like to ask a few questions if you leave a review to answer:_**

 ** _1) What's your opinion on Katherine's Pov and her relationship to Deanna?_**

 ** _2) I'm always interested to hear your thoughts on Deanna. So,_ what are your thoughts about Deano?**

 ** _3) What do you think about Deanna and Edward's interactions? Did you expect her to fall for him right away? To just flock to his side? And also, what do you think will happen in the future, and what do you hope will happen?_**

 _ **~Yours truly, Queen of Idjits**_


	6. Chapter 6

**_Thanks to all who reviewed! But, special thanks to TheGryffinclawDemigod_** ** _and GhostlySights for your reviews! I appreciate your appreciation!_**

* * *

She knew that running away was supposed to be hard. She knew that it meant cutting ties and erasing herself, and if she wanted it to truly work then she'd have to commit. This meant no contact. No writing to Grandma Maggie, who always sent her chocolate cookies every Tuesday. No calling her brother Kohl, who was supposed to be coming home from the army next June. No chance at seeing the twins that were going to pop out of her sister in law. Though she wasn't fond of her family, that didn't mean that she wouldn't miss them. Her parents, though oblivious to her most of the time, had a few moments where they would hug her, holding her close, and for a moment she would feel like they loved her, that they understood her, but then the reality set in. They didn't. They didn't know her. They didn't know about how depressed she had become in her years at St. Marys. Katherine had fallen apart with only Deanna to put her back together. She couldn't tell if her parents were truly so shallow that they didn't notice, or if they just ignored her, not wanting to notice.

But Deanna had noticed. And, for that, Katherine had to believe she was making the best choice for herself. She had to convince herself that what she was doing was one hundred percent what she wanted because if she admitted, for even a second, to doubt, she'd go back. And going back _couldn't_ be an option. Her parents would pull her out of St. Marys. Her family would never look at her as anything besides the wild child that had caused them bad press. Katherine couldn't stomach the thought of being caged in, with nowhere to go and no one to look at her without seeing her mistakes. That's why she tried not to linger on the thoughts as she lied in bed at the hotel. She could only focus on Deanna, and pray that she wouldn't hate her when she showed up.

She bought a burner phone. It was cheap, but not because she couldn't afford a better one. Katherine sported a wardrobe of simple things, mostly from Salvation Army and Goodwill, but she liked to preserve her money, especially now since she was on the run. With the prepaid phone, she kept her daily conversations with Deanna. Deanna never asked, and Katherine never had to lie. Deanna had just assumed she snuck in a prepaid to call during school hours. Things had worked out fine, where Katherine would call from her cheap motel room until Deanna had called her, angry. Apparently, Katherine's parents had called Deanna, wondering if Katherine was with her. At that mention, Katherine's blood drained from her face. However, Deanna ended her worries when she admitted to lying to Katherine's parents before hissing at Katherine, wondering what the hell was going on.

Katherine broke into tears, explaining everything in between her sobs and her pleading that Deanna wouldn't tell on her. "I don't want to go back!" and "Please don't make me go back!" were her two mantras that she kept crying until Deanna shushed her and promised not to. Deanna promised that everything would be okay, and that she'd find a way to work something out, but for Katherine to at least leave the motel and to come to Deanna to sort things out.

And so, Katherine had did exactly that. She had took a bus to Forks. It had been late. Eleven pm to be exact. However, based on Deanna's description, all she had to do was cross the highway and follow the forest until she saw the house in the pictures Deanna sent. It was about a seven mile walk, but Katherine was sure it would be no problem. She was a runner, the owner of several track medals- they had been left behind, all except one. It was a first place medal, and Katherine couldn't part with her whole pride in the past. So, she followed the trees. Wet leaves sloshed in the mud that dirtied her boots as she trudged off to the side.

Katherine was a paranoid girl before, even more so on the run. Though there wasn't a state wide man-hunt for her, let alone one to find her in Forks, she felt like anyone who so much as looked at her knew what she did. And, with it being night, on a trucker's highway, she kept near the road, but stayed slightly in the forest, hidden by the trees.

It had been cold. She could see her breath in the air. Goosebumps marred her skin, and her body shook as she rubbed her arms for warmth. Forks was living up to it's cold and wet reputation, sadly. Her dark lips had a purple tint, but she was never a warm nature girl, so it wasn't a surprise. It was getting late though. Her eyes were heavy, and she stopped to drink some of the coffee she had loaded up on before leaving the motel. Looking for a place to sit, she wandered slightly more inward into the forest before finding an only damp fallen tree to sit on. She made herself comfortable, swinging one leg over for balance before pulling out the thermal. Her back pressed into the bark that was angled upward. The sound of owls and the crisp breeze calmed her fast beating heart.

The rise and fall of her chest slowed and became steady, and a smile graced her lips as the feeling of peace set in. She got it. She understood now why Deanna loved Forks so much.

Her right arm stretched to prop herself up after she was rested, but then something cold circled her wrist in a matter of a half second. Before her brain could process anything a shriek ripped through the air...

Deanna woke with a jolt. Her chest rose and fell quickly as she tried to catch her breath. Her hair was tangled, much more than usual, and the sweat that dampened her clothes and sheets made matters worse. Her eyes swept across the room, back and forth, until she felt her heartbeat calm down. Turning to her nightstand, she flicked on the nearest lamp and latched onto her waterbottle. She drank it like a man living in a ten year drought would seek out water, and she hadn't stopped until her fingers clenched around the bottle seeing it crush in her fist.

"Just a nightmare... it was just a nightmare... I'm okay... I'm okay... I'm _oh-kay_ ," she whispered under her breath about a thousand times before she started feeling like how she said she was. And by the time she looked at her window, still curled into a fetal position, she saw the first light of the day stream in. She closed her eyes, drawing in a fragile breath. It was as if her head had been held underwater. Sure, she had caught her breath, but the paranoia was at her side, clinging to her as she clung to her sheets.

Swinging her legs over the bed, Deanna dragged herself to the bathroom, one hand on the wall to keep her balanced. She felt _drained_ of all energy. She took her time showering. Charlie had came knocking, but when he saw her face, as pale as Bella the last time she had came to visit, he offered to take her to the doctor's. Of course, she didn't turn him down. She just returned to showering and when she came out, she had to lean on him for support when walking, almost having to be carried when it came to the stairs.

Charlie was terrified.

He had gotten to the hospital in a matter of a few minutes and had her rushed into critical care when she couldn't so much as lift herself into a sitting position. The look on his face read exactly how he felt. His eyes were wide, mouth open even after he had shouted for help. The wrinkles on his forehead were prominent, and his eyes were reddening with a burning behind them as tears threatened to come out at the sight of Nurses, whose worry had matched his own, rushing to stick an IV into Deanna.

His only relief was when his eyes settled on the doctor: Carlisle Cullen.

"What happened?" he asked, immediately sensing the fear in the room. His golden eyes flickered to the girl on the Hospital bed. Her skin was pale, coated in a layer of sweat. Her face was contorted in pain, and her body shook as if it were freezing despite her body temperature rising alarmingly.

"I-I don't know!" Charlie choked out, clinging to Deanna's right hand. "She- She's just getting worse! I-I don't - I don't know what happened!" Charlie could barely get out a few words as Deanna let out a sob of pain.

"Did she consume anything?"

"I... I don't think so."

"Did she fall?"

"No."

"Any history of disease?"

"No."

Carlisle moved closer to the girl, placing a calming hand on her forehead. Even his cool hands could be warmed by her skin. She was radiating, but as to what, he didn't know. Looking apologetically to Charlie, he tried his best to convince the man to stay calm. And it took three minutes to calm him when they had to rush the girl to testing. X-rays were rushed. Blood tests were too. All came back without anything. The whole staff seemed to be on edge as he flipped through all of her symptoms. He'd never seen anything like it. The rate of which she was escalating... He'd only seen it in one kind of change o

Moving to her bedside, he looked at her.

"Deanna," he said softly, hoping she could hear him over her own heartbeat which was pounding despite the medicine that should have calmed her. Her shudder was the only indication of a response, if it was even that. "Deanna, I need you to tell me something. Can you do that?" he asked. And for the first time, the girl opened her eyes turning to him. He could tell she was having trouble focusing on him. "What was the last thing that you remember before this all began?"

Her words made no sense to the common mind. But to him... To him they struck him like lightning.

 _"K-Katherine...Woods... This morning..."_

Charlie frowned as he heard Deanna's words to Dr. Cullen. He knew Deanna couldn't have been out in the woods. He also knew that Katherine was miles away, _across the continent_ , so her words made no sense to him. However, looking at Dr. Cullen, he would have assumed that Deanna had just solved all the world's problems in three words. Charlie cleared his throat, looking for an understanding that the doctor seemed to have. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for Dr. Cullen to give him the low down on her condition. Yet, when Dr. Cullen spoke, Charlie didn't gain any enlightenment.

"Do you know this _Katherine_?" Dr. Cullen asked, looking Charlie dead in the eyes.

"Katherine's her best friend," Charlie clarified.

"Do you know what Katherine looks like?"

Charlie gave a silent nod before throwing his hand into his pockets, rummaging through his jacket until he got his phone out. He had Katherine's mother's number in case anything happened to Deanna. He had hoped to have a picture of any of Katherine or maybe one of her and her mother, but all he had was a name. Then his eyes settled on the silver chain around Deanna's neck. He didn't know if he should touch Deanna. She looked so _fragile_ like a teacup that was so delicate that the slightest touch would shatter her. However, when Dr. Cullen's pale fingers slipped around the chain, he felt relief seeing Deanna's condition not skydive. However, the look on Dr. Cullen's face when he opened the locket, Charlie wondered what was going through his head.

"Is something wrong, doc?"

"Possibly..." Dr. Cullen said cryptically. He didn't spare Charlie another glance. "Excuse me," he said swiftly before leaving Charlie without any answers or consolation.

Charlie felt at a loss. His eyes swept over Deanna and his heart broke. She was shaking, trembling with every pained breath. For what he didn't know, but whatever she was going through seemed to be the most painful thing in the world. He felt robbed of all happiness in the world. Renee leaving with Bella was nothing in comparison to watching Deanna, his daughter in every way except blood, fade before his eyes. She was burning out. She was a supernova, a star exploding as she gave out...

And though he wasn't going to leave her side, especially if it was her last moments, which it very much appeared to be, he knew that it wasn't just to be the only one who needed to know. Though he felt like he was betraying the girl, he pulled out his phone once more, flipping it open as he dialed none other than Margot Walsh. With every ring, he was beginning to feel guilt, but he knew it was supposed to be that way. He knew that his family would never forgive him if Deanna died without her mother being there for her, especially if it was his fault for never calling.

And, when he got off the phone, he fell back into his chair, gripping Deanna's hand with tears in his eyes, he began apologizing to her. He apologized for having to work instead of spend more time with her. He apologized for having never offered her a place sooner when he was just keeping Bella's room open in hopes of her return. He apologized for not giving her a hug the night before when it was the perfect opportunity. And the apology that hurt the most was that he couldn't do anything to help her through the pain...

"Ch-Charlie..." He heard her whisper. His head snapped up, not wanting to miss a single word. He could see tears spilling out of her green eyes. Her bottom lip quivering as she tried to get the words out. She could see the pain in his face if she focused hard enough. She didn't want that to be the last thing she saw...

She could feel it settling in, the numbness. She was _cold_. She felt so, so very cold, and usually she flocked to the feeling of said coldness, but this time, all she wanted was warmth. She felt lightheaded, and her eyes were struggling to stay focused on him. But nothing scared her more than the thought of this being her last moment with him. She had heard every last apology that had begun to eat Charlie alive. And it _killed_ her to see him that way. And it was then that she realized that Charlie was blaming himself, for something that even Dr. Cullen didn't seem to understand.

She used all her strength to squeeze his hand, and she forced a terrified smile on her face.

" _Dad_ ," she began again. She felt as if death's breath was on her shoulder. She had to get this out right. Her last words had to mean something. "Dad... _I'm scared_ ," she admitted, letting out a hysterical sob.

"God, Deano... I'm so-"

 _"Don't."_

Charlie's lips slammed shut, tears spilling out of his own eyes as he felt her hand holding onto his for dear life.

"I'm scared, _yes_... But... But it'll be okay," she whispered, looking at him through her blurry vision. "Everything's going to be okay... You're here," she smiled sadly. She may not have wanted to go with him looking at her with such pain in his eyes, but _he was here_. He was going to be there for her, and that had been all she ever could ask of him.

Charlie smiled through the pain, laughing, but it came out as a sob.

"I said I'd take care of you," he said, closing his eyes with a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt like such a failure when it came to such a promise.

"And you will," she smiled weakly. Her eyes shut as she rolled back onto her back. "Do you remember when I was like- I don't know - seven? Mom and I came to visit... And you were- you were taking me to bring your daughter to work day, and Bella was with Aunt Renee?" Charlie chuckled at the memory of her, a tiny girl with two pigtails of thick brown hair running around the station, touching everything that her bright green eyes could see.

"I remember you knocking over my coffee when you managed to steal my police baton," he laughed. He heard Deanna laugh wearily, but still laugh none the less.

"Yeah... Well, I remember, how I was so scared to cross the street... And you took my hand, and you held it just like this," she sighed, smiling at him, for him. "And you turned to me, and you asked me if I was ready to cross. Well, I'm holding you hand now..." Charlie began shaking his head at her. He knew where she was going, and he couldn't... he didn't want her to say it. Because, if she said it, then that would be admitting that it might come true...

 _"Deanna, no."_ Her hand gave his a squeeze once more, a silent apology.

"I'm ready to cross, Dad."

* * *

 _ **So...**_

 _ **Um... What'd you think of this chapter?**_

 _ **1) What do you think happened to Katherine?**_

 _ **2) What do you think is happening to Deanna?**_

 _ **3) And also, what do you think will happen in the future, and what do you hope will happen?**_

 _ **~Yours truly, Queen of Idjits**_


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks to all who reviewed! Some of you were close, but not quite there... Just stay tuned and I'll get to it :)**

 **PS: You know what I don't own(twilight)**

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It had lasted three days, and by the end of the first day, almost all ears within Forks had caught wind of Charlie's niece's condition. It hadn't taken much longer before people began showing up, either curious about what was going on or worried about her. Deanna hadn't been awake long enough to see any of them. Tyler and Eric both left a teddy bear and a get well card. Then Mike came with flowers, remembering how Deanna held a love for carnations. He was the first to cry, aside from Charlie, which earned him an hour longer of just being there. Charlie had watched as the blond haired, blue-teary eyed boy unravelled before him. The Newton boy held Deanna's hand so tenderly that even Charlie could tell that the boy cared for Deanna beyond friendship. And once he had cried, Angela Webber and Jessica Stanley followed, having to leave when Jessica began to hyperventilate when sobs began to storm through her. Even Billy and Jacob Black came to visit, sparing some sympathy as well.

There was something tragic about seeing someone so young waste away. Deanna's mixture of browns had become greasy and clung to her sweaty face. Her skin that was once tan was growing paler every few hours and was getting a sickening grey undertone. And even though Dr. Cullen had all but drowned her in medication, in her unconsciousness, she still gave jolts and trembling fits. And after forty eight hours had past, Charlie broke down once more, letting out a muffled cry, keeping his lips shut and covering his mouth. Losing her felt like a hand slowly burrowed through his chest, gripping his heart and was slowly tearing it from it's place. No amount of pain could match what he was currently feeling.

Then they hit the sixty hour mark.

Something changed. Her body temperature began to fall, and her body began to change before his eyes. The grey began to fade away, slowly, and her breathing began to steady. The trembles stopped, and her heartbeat picked up. Her furrowed eyebrows slackened into peace. Charlie thought he was hallucinating whenever she let out a soft sight, and tightened slightly around his hand. That was when he called Dr. Cullen to return.

The pristine looking man in a white coat didn't seem to be surprised. In fact, he looked more worried than not. And, though he told Charlie that Deanna seemed to be making a recovery, there was a worried tone in his voice. Though he didn't divulge his worries with Charlie, he told Charlie that it was most likely that Deanna would make a recovery. From what, he told Charlie he didn't know, but there was a look in his golden eyes... And though Charlie wanted to know, he chose to just revel in the fact that Deanna would be "fine."

And the very next day, Charlie had returned to the hospital, only to see Deanna sitting in her bed.

Her hair was wet, having taken a shower, but it looked to be richer than prior to when she was sick. Once a double shade of two browns, now was a multitude ranging from caramel to dark mocha, a beautiful array of colors that tousled and tangled. And her skin, still pale had a faint glow, the only freckles in sight were the ones lightly sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. And her eyes, still green, seemed brighter than usual. It was all very confusing to Charlie, and though she was clearly different, when her eyes met his, he knew she was the same Deano that greeted him in the mornings.

And once she saw him, she gave him a grin, flashing pearly white teeth. However, her smile faded quickly when her eyes had shifted away from him. Twisting his body to his left, he looked over his shoulder to see a boy. His features were remarkably defined and straight with high cheekbones, a strong jawline, shaped eyebrows paired with eyes that seemed to be as gold as Dr. Cullen's, but his hair seemed untidy even with an uncanny bronze. The boy was barely around two inches taller than him, Charlie, but had a thin and lanky body that reflected his youth. Charlie hadn't seen him often, and his memory was foggy as to which son he was, but he was, without a doubt, a Cullen.

 _"Deanna_ ," the boy had said. Charlie raised one eyebrow at the sound of how smooth and gentle the boy's tone was. If Charlie had to guess, he'd think the boy was closer to Deanna than the Newton boy, but when Charlie noticed that Deanna had narrowed her eyes with an angry fiery glare that it was not the case.

 _"Cullen,"_ Deanna had said through a scowl. It was clear that nearly biting the dust didn't dull her sense of forgiveness- or rather lack of it.

Swiftly moving aside Charlie, who stood as rigid as a piece of furniture, the boy made his way to her bedside, as if he had done it at least a thousand times before. Each stepped seemed calculated, poised, and, like a dancer, graceful. Charlie idly stood by, watching Deanna. He didn't want to leave, but he also didn't want to stay, and once Deanna gave him a nod, he excused himself and stood outside the door, thankful that she spared him of the clear tension in the room.

Deanna remembered her wake as if remembering a scene from a movie. It was cold, every nerve on her body felt like she had just risen from a hot bath, steam dancing off of her skin as she would have embraced the cooler air. It felt like a rush of cool water running over a burn. It was a rebirth. If she could describe it in one word, that was it: Rebirth. Ever since her eyes opened, something had changed. It felt like she could see better, hear better, and _feel_ better. It was as if the whole universe had aligned with her existence, and she was connected to it in every way. It was symmetry in life, but how it came about was above her. The only thing that irritated her was the burning in her throat that she struggled to ignore.

The nurses came to check on her, removing her PVC so she could shower. And after she emerged from being cleansed, did she come face to face with a paragon of herself. The girl in the mirror had longer, softer hair that was a river of browns, but when Deanna looked down, her eyes had laid to the longer hair she had. Frowning, she drew closer to the mirror and felt her heartbeat speed up. The first thing she noticed was her constellations of freckles had almost vanished under pale skin. Though most weren't fond of freckly skin, she looked to her nose, that she had barely found out how to contour to look thinner. Now, the straight feature was thin complementing her cheekbones which seemed to become more prominent, even highlighted by the slight freckle pattern that had remained. And her lips? They had grown fuller, and her jawline became softer, more feminine and her chin had lost it's ever the slight indentation in the middle. Finally, her eyes met the reflections. The first thing she noticed was how big and wide they looked. She could see each shade of green and each fleck of brown or gold. The second was that her right wasn't slackened and uneven. She tried turning and tilting her head alike, just to see if they were ill symmetrical like everyone else's in the world, but _no._ They were...

They were congruent.

At least she could worry less about pictures now...

When she returned to her bed, she sat still. It was then did she notice the burning had subsided. Her fingertips brushed against the skin of her neck, as if trying to feel where the burning had escaped from. Shaking her head, she had concluded that perhaps lying in bed for who knows how long without saliva to coat her throat. Perhaps that was it...

Then Charlie came. Seeing him reflected that same feeling of coming home after a long trip. It was a sense of warmth to her cool body. It filled her with a sense of comfort and safety. And to see the heartbreaking relief in his eyes was enough to strike guilt in her heart. She hadn't known what had happened to her, but whatever it was, she felt as though it were her fault to cause him such pain. Still, she had to take comfort in the fact that he wouldn't have to suffer anymore. She felt, well, _fine_.

Then her eyes had fallen on _him_. If anything, with clearer sight, he seemed even more flawless, which lead to a slight heartrace and impulse to swoon. That same attraction infuriated her even more. She didn't _want_ to like him. Once Charlie had left her to him, her green eyes narrowed once more at Edward Cullen, her pale arms crossing as a physical wall that closed him off away from her heart that seemed to be fond of him, much to her brain's contempt. The body was a strange thing to do that, to want something that the person inside it didn't. He seemed to watch her just as much as she watched him, neither backing down or looking away. Only, his seemed to be looking for something in her eyes, while she only stared into his to prove she wasn't going to submit under his gaze. She wasn't shy. And though he hadn't mean to challenge her to a staring match, a competitive girl like her knew one thing: her desire to win. He just so happened to accidentally be her challenger.

"How long was I out?" Deanna asked, her eyes never wavering from his. Her fuller lips pushing together, only creating a pout.

"Three days."

This meant nothing to her, so she didn't really take notice of how his eyebrows furrowed even more. Her tongue, out of habit, ran over her dried lips, doing so, her eyes moved away. She almost swore under her breath when she realized she lost a game that only she knew they were playing. Still, she wasn't going to say anything about her game. With a deep breath, she tried to square her shoulders, puffing up her chest as if to out macho the pretty boy, but her weary lungs let out the breath in a sigh.

"How do you feel?" He asked her, breaking the silence. She frowned, her eyes returning to him.

"Why do you care?" she asked, wanting her tone to be sharper than it was.

"I just do," he said softly, frowning himself as if he tried not to like her as much as she tried not liking him. She tried to stop herself from saying it, but it escaped her lips before she could stop the truth from coming out.

"Same."

And with that single word, their faces both changed. Her's erupted with panic. Her green eyes widening, her lips pressing tightly together, wishing she could take back what she had said. She looked like a doe staring into the eyes of a hunter. Edward, on the other hand, looked into her eyes with a soft smile tugging onto his lips, tilting his head to the right side, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips. Deanna quickly scowled, scoffing as she turned her cheek to him, tilting her head up highly.

"Don't get too cocky, Cullen," she huffed. "I'll find a reason to hate you one day," she muttered loud enough for him to hear. This only made a louder laugh to slip out of his shaped mouth.

"I can give you the perfect reason to hate me," he said quietly, the smile fading. She saw this, watching from the corner of her eyes. This remorse showing on his face struck her cold to where she looked him straight in the eyes. Though she had intended to comfort him, the first words out of her mouth weren't as gentle as they could have been.

 _"Don't be so emo."_

His eyes widened as if she had slapped him across the face. There was nothing except shock until amusement followed. And, it wasn't a chuckle, but a laugh, a _real_ laugh that came out of his mouth.

"Deanna Walsh, I have never met a girl like you."

"Probably because you're a hermit of a boy," she shot back, unable to stop smiling. And when he returned her smile, there was a split second before the two laughed. "Sorry," she mumbled, a light pink dusting her cheeks. Her eyes flickered to his, seeing a soft smile that seemed to look at her like he was looking at a lovely and soft rose. He was looking at her with a fondness that she couldn't clearly understand beyond her own fondness of seeing him growing fond of her.

"I don't like it..."

"Like what?" She asked quietly, her wide smile falling from her lips slowly.

"I don't like staying away from you," he admitted quietly.

"Then don't," she shrugged lamely. She sighed, running a hand through her softer hair, momentarily becoming distracted by it before she returned her attention to him. Leaning forward, looking at him closer as if to make sure she had his full and undivided attention as she passed on her words of wisdom. "Listen, and you listen good, Edward Cullen. Life is too short to deny oneself from the things that make you happy," she advised, her eyes unfocusing as Katherine's voice flashed through her mind. Shaking the thought away she straightened herself up, casting a look at Charlie as worry appeared on her face. Katherine should have arrived in Forks by now...

"Sometimes you have to do everything wrong for all the right reasons... A chance at being happy? Well sometimes it's too good to pass up..." she whispered as worry came into her heart. Edward noticed this, and he placed a cold hand over her right hand. Out of habit, she tried pulling away before she noticed the look in his eyes. They were staring straight into the core of her existence as the next few words left his lips.

"Deanna," She pursed her lips, not wanting to lose her composure in front of him. Though she thought they were on good terms, she was still guarded against him. She was used to it being her, Charlie, and Katherine against the big bad world, and that wouldn't change with just a laugh with Edward Cullen. "I promise you that I will try to make sure that you have as much happiness in your lifetime as possible."

Such a bold statement, a strikingly powerful promise made, and for him to swiftly leave her afterwards was more than enough to cause her a headache. With a defeated sigh, she fell back into her bed, wondering what the hell he was talking about. Though some saw her as a mystery, she saw someone who seemed to speak in riddles and cryptic one liners. Rolling over, her mind was slowly beginning to be infected by the very mystery of Edward Cullen and the intensity that he seemed to embody. Hugging a pillow closer to her chest, she felt frightened as she realized something: She _liked_ Edward Cullen. And she didn't just like him. She _like liked_ him.

When Deanna was cleared from the hospital, she had returned home. The first thing she did was call Katherine's prepaid phone. She called once, twice, and thrice over before she felt the impulse to throw her phone out the window. She felt her heart pounding against her chest, and she hurled a few small pillows at the wall. However, this didn't satisfy the fury building inside of her. She wanted to hear something break and shatter in hopes that her fear would do the same. Loving someone did that to oneself. It made them stronger and passionate, yes. However, it also made them susceptible to pain and fear at the thought of losing someone. Loving someone, even just one person, as much as Deanna loved Charlie and Katherine, was her best state of existence. She was stronger. Loving them, being the best person she could be for her family and for herself alone empowered her, even in her darkest of times, to get her out of bed. However, the mere thought of losing them? Either one of them? It destroyed her.

She couldn't picture a worse day that the day in her life that when that would become true. She fell onto her bed, clutching the locket over her heart, wondering where exactly Katherine was. She just had to believe Katherine was okay, that she was alive and safe. She told herself that Katherine couldn't be dead. Deanna told herself that she and Katherine were so in sync that she would know, that she would feel it in her heart if Katherine was... _gone_.

"Oh, Katherine," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly, as if to call out to Katherine, in hopes that the universe would perform some wonder and let Katherine hear her. There was a small creak, but Deanna's eyes didn't open for that. She was scared that opening her eyes would break whatever sense of connection Deanna hoped she had. "Wherever you are, whatever happened, I just hope you're okay... I wish I could just see you... to know that you're okay..."

 _"Then open your eyes, Deano. It's not that hard."_

And just like that, Deanna's eyes shot open.

* * *

 _ **Soooo, what do you guys think? I know I didn't fully answer what happened, but that'll most likely come in the next chapter.**_

 ** _1) What do you think happened now?_**

 ** _2) How do you feel about Edward and Deanna's current relationship and how it contrasts to Bella's and Edward's in Twilight?_**

 ** _3) In the next chapter, someone important will come to Forks. Take a guess at who and what will happen._**

 ** _~ Yours truly, Queen of Idjits_**

 ** _PS: Are you still liking this fic?_**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks to Shadowmere Consortium, guest, writingNOOB, and Rain girl.**

 **TheGryffinclawDemigod, TooLazyToLogin, and griezz, thank you so much for those lovely reviews, I'm literally fueled by them!**

* * *

Deanna's eyes widened at the sight of her friend. And, like when she looked in the mirror, she struggled to believe it was actually her.

The first thing Deanna noticed was Katherine's dark, warm skin that Deanna once found so beautiful and rich, was paled into an olive skin tone. There was less of a sun-kissed lively warmth, and more of a growing pale over multiple years. Only, it hadn't been years. It hadn't even been half a year, yet centuries of dark skinned predecessors vanished. Not only had it become pale, but every contour of her skin had fallen flat as marble, smooth and shaped, but only to a specific degree.

Deanna gingerly stood, her eyes never wavering from Katherine as she found herself being drawn towards the look-alike. And up closer, Deanna noticed even more. Katherine once had legs, well proportioned for running and kicking had lost some of her muscle mass. No longer did those legs look to be kicking a soccer ball on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but rather modelling in Paris on Saturdays. It was beautiful, yes, but it was _wrong_. The girl before her looked extraordinarily beautiful. Her chin had become more prominent, no longer rounded with a clef. And her lips, once too plump for her face, had lost it's richness and color, becoming proportionate and doll like with big eyes.

And her eyes...

They were a vivid crimson color that seemed to glow, even in the dim lighting of Deanna's room. Reaching out, Deanna's pale fingertips grazed against the girl's cheek, feeling a cool and smooth surface. Her green eyes never left the glowing red's.

 _"Katherine."_

The name left Deanna's lips, not as a question, but rather as an understanding. Though she was different, the red eyes being a prime factor warranting such, Deanna could feel it. From the moment she touched her, the moment she laid a single finger on Katherine's cheek was the very moment she was sure. No one could have broken into such a cat-like smile at Deanna's touch except her dearest friend. The second a cheeky smile broke free on Katherine's face was followed by cold arms sweeping a tired girl into an embrace. Wincing at first, Deanna gave into how fondly her heartbeat pounded in her chest. As much as Katherine had change, and as cold as her touch was, she was like the sun, bringing the warmest sensation to Deanna's existence.

Deanna felt Katherine's face nuzzle into her neck, and she felt the faint breathing in and out as if Katherine were a cat sniffing it's owner, making sure that nothing had changed in her absence. Apparently, not much had, as to when Katherine pulled away, her hands drifted towards Deanna's shoulders, not wanting to remove her touch in fear that if she let go, even in the slightest, then Deanna would disappear once more.

 _"Deano."_

"What happened?" Deanna asked in a whisper, backing into her bed, falling onto the mattress. She didn't even need to motion for Katherine to sit, already, in a blink of the eye, Katherine was already lying on her back, expectantly awaiting for Deanna to do the same. Rolling her shoulders, a faint crunch sounding, Deanna squirmed into the right side of the bed, joining Katherine as they stared into the ceiling, a plain white canvas, perfect for picturing what the other decided she would tell.

"I'm not supposed to tell..."

Deanna's head snapped left, looking to Katherine with an aghast look written across her face. A laugh left Katherine's plum lips before Deanna could voice a protest.

" _-but_ you are the one person I don't think I could ever keep a secret this big from," she finished, rolling on her side to face Deanna. Her eyes couldn't stop running over Deanna's features, memorizing every feature, every way it would twist to shape a new expression. Katherine hadn't even seemed to realize how she had begun to use her left hand to take a few strands to twirl around her index finger. "Can you guess it?" She asked, watching a familiar spark appear in Deanna's eyes. The girl couldn't turn away a challenge...

"Are you real or am I just dreaming?" Deanna's voice was so fragile, but the fire in her eyes was still visible, only this time it burned of desperation, of her worst fear that the only way she could see Katherine was in a dream.

"Yes."

"What happened to you?" she asked in a whisper, staring into Katherine's eyes, the reds seeming to darken at her words.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I died-"

"How?" Deanna asked sharply, moving to sit up, but Katherine's hand shot out, keeping her in a relaxed position.

 _"I'm real,"_ she reassured. Katherine could see the skepticism rise in Deanna's green eyes, but the girl was as curious as she was reluctant. Once she had gotten situated once more, she folded her arms awkwardly, openly showing her impatience. Perhaps Katherine had overestimated Deanna's desire for games. Still, Katherine raised her eyebrows, challenging the girl once more. Though she was intent on Deanna finding out her secret, Katherine would make sure the girl discovered it, so Katherine's hands would be clean, should she ever be accused of something she was very much guilty of. "Guess again."

"So you're dead, but you're real?" Deanna asked for confirmation. One nod later, a single word left her mouth. "Ghost."

"Wrong."

"Zombie."

"Wrong again."

"Vampire?"

"Three guesses? You're getting slower. I remembered you being better at drawing continues," Katherine teased, watching Deanna's thoughts begin to run through the gears of her mind. What surprised Katherine most was the fact that Deanna never showed a look of disbelief. Then again, Deanna was never one for orthodox ways of life. She was the kind who questioned and challenged things, yes. However, Deanna had an open mind from questioning everything. Katherine should have known that her friend, who rambled on about time travel, alternate universes, and "what if's" wouldn't have much trouble believing in Katherine.

"You're for real?"

"Yes."

"Like, you drink blood?" Deanna asked, cringing.

"No, I eat hamburgers- Yes! I drink blood," Katherine snapped with a roll of her eyes, a smile resting on her lips to show that she meant no harm. Deanna swatted at the girl who let out a squeal. One wouldn't guess that the two had spent even a moment apart based on how quickly they fell back in sync. Once Katherine recovered from her laugh and Deanna's face sobered up to a small grin, Katherine ran a hand through her wild dark waves, tossing them over her shoulder before she appeared at Deanna's window, a faint click sounded as she locked it. "You really need to lock this. What if some other baby vampire came in? I can assure you, not every vampire has control like me," Katherine snorted.

"You've been a vampire for how many days and you're an expert?" Deanna snorted, propping herself up. From what she observed, vampires were fast and beautiful. An image of a pale skinned, beautiful, picturesque family popped into her head, but she quickly swiped that away. The Cullen's were complicated enough without being vampires. Squinting, Deanna's nose crinkled as she said it in her mind over and over again. _Vampire. Vampire. Vampire_. It sounded like some foul teen plot mechanism for creating wonder. Though, even Deanna couldn't deny the appeal of Katherine as one. Katherine the Vampire? _Ew_. Katherine the Bloodsucker? _Worse_. Countess Katherine?Deanna needed to stop.

"I've been a vampire for about a day, about as long as _we've_ been a vampire- Well, you a _kinda_ vamp," Katherine added nonchalantly, as if the girls were talking about wearing a new pair of boots. Deanna's eyes widened at Katherine's suggestions. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed," Katherine scowled. "You and I always had a _connection..."_

"I won't say it's impossible," Deanna said carefully, watching as Katherine's eyes remained looking out a window. Deanna wondered what exactly was Katherine seeing on the outside, but Deanna trusted Katherine as much as Katherine trusted her: enough. They trusted each other enough to know that when someone, _anyone_ , came to their gates, they'd gather their forces and face the big bad world together. _They_ _were connected_. They knew each other. Everything and everyone else was the outside. "So, that's that? You drink blood, I... I just ate a cheeseburger earlier. I don't think I need your... your, um, _diet_."

"I didn't say you were a vampire, Deano," Katherine clarified, her red eyes finally falling on Deanna, who sat still on her bed, her head tilted confusedly to the right. In the moonlight, her new pale skin seemed to glow softly, making the freckles on her cheeks and nose draw attention to the brilliant greens above them. For a moment, a brief moment, Katherine almost forgot about her vampirism. It was true, Deanna expelled a good scent, but not irresistible. However, it was enough to cause Katherine a slight irritation in her throat. Yet, in the beauty of the moonlight, Deanna's scent had vanished. She wasn't some prey to be thirsted upon, but rather a work of art, meant to be admired.

Katherine cleared her throat before continuing.

"I can _feel_ you. I can sense you in me just as I know who and where I am. It's like... It's like at St. Mary's. We'd sleep right beside each other, beds pushed together, back to back or facing each other and holding each other's hands as we fell asleep. We weren't conscious, but _we knew the other was there..."_

Deanna knew exactly what Katherine was trying to describe.

It was unnatural, yet in the same sense, it was as natural as breathing came to the two. It was like a feeling, that drifting feeling when dozing off, right on the edge of dreams and reality, balancing perfectly between the two. Before the two knew each other, it had been either living in reality or living in their dreams, but the feeling of living in both had never quite occurred until Katherine stepped into Deanna's life. Katherine called it being "soul sisters," but Deanna didn't like how childish it sounded. Deanna couldn't stand the thought of discrediting what they had as some silly sounding relationship that would fade as easily as it came.

Anyone with eyes could see that the two were tied together, drawn to each other by some invisible force. The two would exchange thoughts and feelings with a simple meeting of the eyes. Perhaps that's what allowed the two to remain in their world where only the other existed for so long. When Katherine was near Deanna, or when Deanna was in the same room as Katherine, the two only had eyes for each other. No one wanted nor felt the need to stand in the way, excluding Deanna's mother, who seemed to effortlessly wrench the two apart. And being without each other was more pain than the other could bare to admit. Yet, in that pain, which they should have found liberation, they only found a freedom to choose each other all over again.

So, here they had come together, and the feeling in Deanna's heart, the feeling that all her dreams were possible, returned when Katherine was with her once more. And though it had been some time since they'd seen each other, it was like returning to one's native language. It was far more easier than most understood. To share ones joy was one thing. It was human nature to desire sharing happiness. However, the willingness to share fear, anger, sadness, and pain was another. Yet, not a single piece of Deanna could ever regret loving Katherine. It was scary enough for Deanna, even more so when Katherine was consumed by her constant fear that if Deanna left, she might not return. Both craved the other's company almost as much as they could breath. And that was why Deanna couldn't stand for such degradation of what they had. It was more than just a simple profound bond. It was pure and strong, just like the iron that ran through their veins, the blood that now only ran in Deanna's.

And it was over.

The separation, the pain, it was over. They were finally together again, and maybe, for once, they'll get to be happy.

"So, what happens now?" Deanna asked, exasperated, feeling the weight of this new knowledge weigh heavy on her. Katherine slipped over the top blanket, keeping two sheets as a barrier between the two, her red eyes never leaving Deanna's as a single word left her mouth.

"Sleep."

Deanna's face twisted with pain, the fear of sleep dawning on her. That was how love was, and they understood more than anyone else. Love was talking, making mad stupid jokes and choices that usually ended in memories that Deanna would tuck into her heart and save for her saddest days in hopes of shedding the sunshine of happiness onto the dreariest of days. However, it was also not even wanting to go to sleep, because sleep felt like leaving each other, giving each other up for hours, and the thought of waking up and finding that she had dreamed it all was almost too much to bare. Yet, the heaviness of her eyelids were too much to deny. She was tired, but Katherine was never the kind to let Deanna go to sleep with a frown on her face.

"I'll be right here," Katherine promised. Deanna didn't hesitate, and fumbled around with the blankets until she was warm, but not shying away from Katherine's cool body. No, she slipped her hands over Katherine's, lacing their fingers together, refusing to let Katherine have a chance of leaving her while they were asleep. And, that night, Deanna fell asleep to the sound of Katherine's voice rather than her violin.

And that night, Deanna dreamt of the last night she and Katherine had. It was a secret, but she had closed her eyes that night, a silent prayer in her mind, begging pleading from her lowest point, from the doors of her personal hell, begging "God" to save her, to have mercy just once in her life, and to spare her. She'd rather burn than be without Katherine. Yet, it was a bittersweet moment to see that the god that she had prayed to wasn't fond of her. For a god that had listened, every word she cried, the god that heard her and chose to opt out, to plead the fifth, turned his back on Deanna.

Deanna had always hope, hope that someone was looking out for her, yet when she had to board that plane, _she fell_. She fell from her grace, and crashed into the earth. Deanna had always been strong, but she felt herself die that day. There was a sinking feeling in her heart, and she just knew Katherine was feeling it too. Katherine was her own personal salvation, and nothing could convince her otherwise. Deanna gave up on praying to God. Deanna chose to tie herself up at the site where she fell. God must have turned deaf to her tears, so Deanna chose to open her chapped lips and let a single word leave her lips, "Katherine."

Katherine was the one that loved her so purely. Katherine was the one who protected her during the night, holding her as she slept, protecting her in and from the darkness. It was Katherine, a strange girl who both embraced the the shadows and shielded Deanna from them. And just like that night, Deanna fell asleep and the fears on the very tips of her nerves subsided when Katherine hummed softly. And Deanna couldn't stir. She didn't dream of Edward Cullen. Deanna was finally at rest. And though she was far from what was considered grace, and what was right, nothing felt more so. She couldn't imagine what could be more right than the sound of Katherine's voice, the compassion in her eyes, or even the way her face calmed Deanna as easy as it brought a smile to the brunette.

Perhaps a god did exist, but even he must have known that no one could teach Deanna love quite as well as Katherine could. For, it was her presence that made Deanna wish to abandon everything except for hope. There was once a rope around Deanna's neck, and not even she could remove the noose. Yet, Katherine could lift it with the tips of her fingers, and just like that, Deanna was free, free to rejoice, free to finally be happy.

That was the night when a single word left Deanna's mouth in her sleep. It was a word she hadn't said since her last day in a church. It was a word that carried no meaning until this moment.

"Hallelujah."

All the hope Deanna had abandoned over the years, all of it returned to her like a breath of fresh air. And though Katherine couldn't sleep, she felt that same wistfulness at the sight of Deanna in her most peaceful state. Deanna was the kind to blaze her own trail, to set herself on fire to set herself apart from those she was scared of. Yet, at the end of the day, underneath the tough front she tried putting up, under all her sarcasm and sharpness, she was just a girl, just a tired girl who tried and cried just as any other. And to see her, to see the way she sighed, giving into the wonder of dreams, was enough for Katherine to feel as though she was retiring into sleep herself.

All Katherine could say and think was that "everything's alright," or so she whispered when Deanna seemed to frown in her sleep. Katherine couldn't think of anything else. She had to believe that she was doing more good than bad when she left, and that wouldn't change. Things might be tougher, yes, but she had the one person she wanted. Deanna was her rock, and if the teen could be tough as she was growing up, then Katherine was sure she could hand't it. They were Katherine and Deanna. Nothing was out of their hands if they were willing to fight for it. And Katherine was willing to fight for her friend.

And when Deanna would wake, Katherine would be there.

Neither knew what was to happen, but the two knew enough to know they had each other. The world could rise and fall, and all that mattered was each other. Yesterdays hope was nothing if they didn't have each other.

But they _did_ have each other...

And that was always enough.

* * *

 ** _Okay, so I promise that the next chapter will have someone important coming to Forks! I promise!_**

 ** _1) What do you think of vampire Katherine?_**

 ** _2) What do you think will happen now that Deanna knows of vampires?_**

 ** _3) In the next chapter, someone important will come to Forks. Take a guess at who and what will happen._**

 ** _~ Yours truly, Queen of Idjits_**

 ** _PS: Are you still liking this fic?_**


	9. Chapter 9

When Deanna woke, waking from the light that was streaming in from the very window which Katherine had entered from the night prior, the window that Deanna had checked to make sure it was locked, the only thing she heard was the sound of the front door closing and the eerie silence that filled the house. Blinking, she felt her heart die in her chest when she looked around her room and saw that Katherine was gone. Her eyes fell shut and her hands slipped into her hair as if to cradle her skull where her aching brain throbbed with the settling idea that Katherine had broken her promise, that perhaps the promise was never there to begin with. Perhaps it had been a dream, a hallucination, or an illusion conjured by her mind. Feeling her forehead with the back of her hand, feeling the smooth skin, checking for a fever, wondering if her sickened body was to blame.

She took in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and let the air breeze through her throat and out of her mouth three times before she felt a pair of cold, slender arms slip around her waist, drawing her back with a strength and firmness that Katherine hadn't possessed in her human days. Deanna's eyes shot open, locating the only mirror in her room to see the reflection. Katherine's eyes were staring just as much as Deanna was, unto the pair standing before them. There was a stark contrast between the two, any human could see that. Here was Deanna Walsh, still looking flustered, her blood warming her already beige cheeks. And then, there was Katherine Marks. The pale, yet dark young woman that looked just as smooth and put together as a renaissance portrait.

"I thought... I thought that you... that you..."

Deanna's voice perished in her throat, not wanting to voice her doubt. It was less doubt of Katherine's word and more doubt in herself, in her sanity and sureness of the reality around her, but she figured it was best not to voice her thoughts. Disloyalty, unfaithfulness, it was an ugly shawl that only brought shame in the eyes of another. Deanna placed a hand over Katherine's and turned. The two had always been close, that alone was no secret. However, there was something in the way Katherine watched her. It wasn't out of kinship, yet it also wasn't a hungering either. Deanna couldn't quite place what stared back at her when she looked into Katherine's crimson eyes, but she did know that it was familiarly strange. It was like staring into the eyes of a cousin or reading a book one hasn't read in years. One would recognize it, but there was still uncertainty.

"You're lucky I drank two deer before I visited," Katherine began, not wanting to linger on Deanna's doubt. There were times when it was more efficient to ignore one's worst, especially when it meant being able to focus on the better. She was a pragmatist, deep down.

Deanna raised a single eyebrow, lazily falling onto the edge of her bed before she began to tug on her nearest pair of jeans. Thankfully being a teenager entailed being able to find clothes on the ground, bed, or any surface. Yet, the nearest jeans weren't the wrinkled pair she had abandoned on the floor the day prior. No, these were neatly folded and lying on her unmade bed besides the rest of an outfit. Katherine noticed how Deanna's thoughts turned more towards clothes than the nonchalant delivery of Katherine's new diet. Katherine, temporarily, wondered if she should be worried by how easy it seemed to accept this, but she didn't linger on this. After all, she, herself, was taking it quite well- being dead and having to survive on blood and all.

"Ahem," Katherine cleared her throat, drawing the human's attention back to her. "I'm not sure it's a good idea for me to be around you- At least not until I get my control in order," she added before Deanna could let out anything aside from a strangled noise of protest.

"You seem to have good control around me," Deanna protested, standing and kicking her legs, trying to wiggle into the comfort of skinny jeans before she sighed and changed back into . For a moment, she missed wearing the semi-long skirts of St. Mary's that Deanna's own grandmother would most likely wear. She was trying to adjust into styles nowadays, and to say it was easy was a lie. She still had trouble comprehending how mismatched socks had came in style, despite having worn them like that even in St. Marys (However, it must be noted that this only occurred because Deanna hadn't cared about matching her socks. There was no guy or girl she sought to impress).

"That's because you're _special_ ," Katherine chirped with a tap to Deanna's nose. Yet, the smile still faded when the words sunk in. "You don't even understand how hard it was to not attack Charlie last night," she added quietly, the shame and guilt showing in her eyes. Deanna could remember how her throat had burned. She couldn't imagine how it felt for Katherine. Deanna didn't want to admit it. Deanna wanted to live in the clouds where everything was okay, and that Katherine would just magically not hunger for the red that ran through human veins.

But that simply wasn't true.

"I promise I won't be too far away, but I can't... I don't... I may not thirst for _you_ , but I'm not ready to be around others," Katherine shuddered. She took a seat beside Deanna, taking her hand and lacing their finger's together. "I swear to you, I'll come back to you, when I'm ready," she vowed, giving Deanna's hand a squeeze, reciprocating how her cold heart would have ached at the thought of leaving Deanna.

"... I understand," Deanna said quietly. Ninety percent of her wanted to beg Katherine not to go, but it wasn't right of Deanna to whine and ask Katherine this. It was obvious that Katherine was genuinely scared of hurting people. Katherine was too empathetic to take a life, but the hunger could force her to. Deanna wasn't going to ask Katherine this. It was _too much_. She forced a smile onto her lips. "Don't you dare leave me in this world alone."

Katherine snorted, pulling Deanna into a hug. There was a phantom pain in her undead heart. How many times would they have to say goodbye? And when Deanna pulled away, Katherine kissed her cheek just in case it was a last goodbye.

"I had better go... You're _boyfriend_ is here. I don't know what happens to people who drop the _V-bomb_ , but I don't imagine it's good," Katherine joked. And the last thing she spared Deanna was a wink, and just like that Katherine had vanished.

Deanna let out a sigh when the doorbell rang. Deanna had a good idea of who Katherine called her "boyfriend," but Deanna still felt her heart pound when she sluggishly made her way downstairs. For a moment, she imagined that she'd open the door and see a fanged Edward Cullen waiting on the other side, but she shook the image away. It was a silly thing, more amusing than it was terrifying. With a faint snort, she twisted the doorknob and cracked open the door, just enough for him to see her, but not enough for him to come in.

"Deanna..."

"Edward," she said shortly, cocking an eyebrow at him. She had to place her bet on the mere fact that he liked her as to why she hoped he wouldn't kill her. When he didn't say anything, she cleared her throat. Though she didn't mind the color of his eyes, she wasn't comfortable with the staring. It felt analytical, as if he were trying to figure her out, and she wasn't sure she wanted anyone else to know her. She only knew of two people in the entire world that got to know her and her flaws. She wasn't too keen on the idea of someone getting to know her, only to reject her.

"You're friend- Katherine, I think - was here," He stated, staring her down. Deanna shrugged, pretending to think on the words, but before she could tell him anything, he placed a cold hand over the one of hers that kept the door in it's place. "Deanna, _please_."

"What do you want from me?" She asked, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand.

" _You know..._ "

His words came out in a whisper, his eyes wide and narrowed at the same time. If he were human, she imagined that his eyes would have twitched in pain between the struggle of being surprised, yet not at all at the same time. And this time, Deanna's face remained still. However, she shifted her weight, readying herself to run. She knew that Katherine was fast, or that she could get from one place in a blink of an eye. Unfortunately, before Katherine left, Deanna didn't get to find out what all vampires were capable of or if some vampires were different from others.

Edward saw it. He saw the way her muscles flexed, how her feet moved, her weight shifting to her toes, ready to turn and run. She may not have known much about his kind beside her diet, but she was a fighter, a survivor, and she was going to try her luck at running if she had to. Yet, her willingness to run, the ease at which she had seen him as a friend half a day earlier, only to see him as a predator now. And, though it was clear that he thought of himself as a monster, there was something about Deanna seeing him as a danger that caused him pain.

"Deanna, I would never hurt you," he swore, shaking his head at the thought. He didn't know exactly what drew him to her, perhaps it was the way that she was immune to the glamour of him and his family that made her appealing. She saw the beauty of them, but she didn't let that "dazzle" her into a state that blocked her thinking abilities. "I'm trying to _protect_ you."

"Katherine isn't something you need to protect me from," Deanna said lowly, her muscles not relaxing even after he promised not to hurt her. She knew better than to rely on the word of a stranger. She let the door open more, allowing him to see her. She tossed her hair over her shoulders. "See, no bite marks," she sneered. Even he couldn't hide the small smile on his face. Despite her irritation at this smile, she continued. "I get what she is, and she does to. That's why she left..."

 _"She left?"_

"She didn't want to hurt Charlie. She didn't want my blood, but she did want Charlie's. So, _yeah_ , she left," Deanna deadpanned. "Don't pretend to know Katherine. I know her, and she's doing what's best for her," Deanna promised. She knew that she, most certainly, did not know if Katherine knew what to do, but she was willing to lie to herself for the sake of protecting Katherine. However, it was clear that Edward didn't think the same. She could see it in his eyes. She could see the way he looked at her as if _she_ didn't understand, and maybe she didn't. She didn't know what vampirism entailed, but she did know what Katherine did. "If Katherine hurts someone, no one will hold her more accountable than herself."

"We were trying to help her," Edward sighed, running a hand through that same messy hair. He looked over his shoulder, then back at Deanna, his eyes looking behind her. It took a brief moment before Deanna moved aside, allowing him in. If he was going to kill her, she imagined that he would have done the deed already. She was placing her life in the hands of chance too often lately, but if not there, then where? As soon as the door clicked behind her, Edward continued. "My family, we don't... We don't _feed_ on humans. We feed on animals."

"Katherine fed on deer," Deanna mentioned. Edward nodded, already aware of this.

"Emmett went with her, but after her second deer, she disappeared. Did she spend the whole night with you?" He asked, looking upstairs, wondering how any newborn could keep their control for a minute, let alone a whole night. Had he not found the faint scent of Alice's perfume that lingered in the clothes that Katherine had borrowed, he would have thought of Deanna as a liar when she nodded. "Carlisle mentioned that you're temperature remains lower than the average human's," he mentioned. Deanna nodded, taking a seat on the couch. "You lost your freckles-"

"Not all of them."

"-and you're significantly more attractive to the eye," he finished with, a frown on his face that only seemed to grow graver by the second. "You're connected... Not just a friendship, not just empathy or compassion- You two are _literally_ sharing somehow."

"Sharing?" Deanna echoed, crossing her arms.

Edward nodded, taking a seat across from her.

"Katherine was transitioning into a vampire for three days. It's painful, and it burns you like a blizzard from the inside. Our skin clears, our eyes change. We become more appealing to attract our _prey_. And the only way to change is to be bitten yet you were showing diluted symptoms of transition during the same period of time that Katherine was," he explained. He could see how it was becoming more clear to Deanna, yet the connection wasn't fully made. "Your life is tied to hers. I don't know how, and I don't know why, but you're _sharing_."

"We're sharing a life," Deanna whispered. Edward simply assumed she was processing what he had said, but it was something more than that. She wasn't parroting his words. "It makes sense. Katherine, she always had this way of knowing me, knowing me better than I know myself sometimes. The way she looks at me... It's not like looking at a friend. It's more than that... She's looking at a mirror, at the other side of the same coin... Can vamparism make a connection like that? Or make something like love stronger?" she asked.

"Vampires all have certain traits. We're stronger, faster, and more attractive to kill our prey- which should be humans," he added, his eyes flickering to the floor in shame. "Some of us, we have _gifts_ of sorts. There's vampires that can have subtle gifts, and others that have active powers than others." He could see the question on the tip of her tongue. Letting out a chuckle he nodded. "I do have one."

"Is it cool?" She asked with a grin.

"Do you remember when you told me to read your mind?" He asked, reflecting on one of his first memories of her. "It was right before you told me that I knew nothing," he reminded her, a crooked smile playing on his lips as he saw how her face flushed with color as she remembered how she had treated him before.

"So you know... you know what I'm thinking?" she asked, her cheeks heating up thinking of _that one dream_ she was rather ashamed of having. Though Edward enjoyed the way Deanna seemed to become flustered in a matter of seconds, he dispelled her fears.

"I know what people think... But like all things I have exceptions and limitations. Limitations such as distances and how much I recognize a person to hear their thoughts better," he explained, tip toeing around her questions. "The more I'm around someone, the easier it is to get a read on them-"

"You need to go then!" Deanna blurted out. It was then did a full laugh leave his lips.

" _-But_ , it would appear you're the exception," he finished. He could see the relief run through her body, from the expulsion of breath to the color that drained from her face. "It's nothing except a faint humming noise. It's like a radio frequency, and most people I can pick up their's, but yours is just an empty channel," he added.

"Trust me, you don't want to pick up on mine. It's mostly screaming," she joked earning another laugh to which she joined in. However, when the laughs subsided, when the smiles began to fade, did everything set in. Deanna knew the truth. Edward knew she knew the truth. The only thing neither knew was how to proceed with such knowledge. There was silence, to which Deanna filled with her rapid heart as her paranoia began to build. "So," she began, feeling her nerves peak. "Now that I know, what are we going to do? Where do we go from here?" she asked, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

Edward's face remained impassive, his face not betraying his thoughts, which were safely hidden away from her. Though Deanna couldn't read people's minds, she understood how frustrating it could be to not know what the other was thinking, especially in that moment. Prior to this day, they had just barely settled on a friendship of sorts, but what now? Surely things were different now. His lips parted, and right as he was about to answer her question, the door's lock clicked. Deanna's eyes flickered to Edward, who only frowned, just as confused as she was.

A creek sounded, boots hitting the floor as the door opened. And when Deanna's eyes recognized the person that had just passed through the threshold of her house.

The color drained from her face. Her green eyes dilated, widening as she drew in a sharp breath at the sight of a person who she didn't want to see for a long time.

Edward's expression hardened as he could read the thoughts of the woman that had just walked in. The woman with the same thick brown hair, but with cold blue eyes, as Deanna.

A single word left the both of their lips. One was filled with a false tone of delight, and the other left in a strangled voice, restraining the amount of shock and apprehension that was filling her lungs...

 _"Deanna!"_

 _"Mother..."_

* * *

 ** _So, there you have it! To all who thought it was Bella, I'm sorry. She'll come later though. Thanks to all who've reviewed the last chapter that I posted earlier today! Reviews really speed up chapter writings because I get excited._**

 ** _Katherine and Deanna are not soul mates, I'm sorry! But they do have a connection. It's Katherine's power, And now Deanna knows and Edward knows- It's still not fully known, but they have a starting point of understanding. Anyways, if you would be so kind to share your thoughts of this chapter in your reviews, here's some guiding questions that will help:_**

 ** _1) What do you think will happen now that Margot Walsh (Deanna's mother) is in Forks?_**

 ** _2) How do you think Katherine's and Deanna's connection will impact the future?_**

 ** _3) How do you think the Cullens will react to Deanna knowing the truth?_**

 ** _~ Yours truly, Queen of Idjits_**

 ** _PS: Are you still liking this fic?_**


	10. Chapter 10

_**Note:**_ _ **The last chapter didn't send out a notification, so, if you haven't read chapter nine, or aren't sure if you have, please just go back and check**_

* * *

 _"Deanna!"_

 _"Mother..."_

Margot Walsh was a sight to be seen. Unlike most mothers, she stood with a youthful face. Her brown hair was a storm of espresso colored curls, framing a tanned face that didn't bare the same freckles that were scattered over Deanna's, prior to the change. She was beautiful, to say at the least. She wasn't that tall, had she not worn heeled boots that were as sharp as the black skirt suit she wore. Her figure wasn't what it used to be, but for a woman dawning on her forties, she looked nice. However, the frown worn on her thin lips were as unattractive as they were uninviting. The most uninviting was the dark blues that were staring into Deanna's forest greens.

The tension spiked in the room the moment a mother and daughter were reunited.

Edward, who had lived for over a hundred years, had never felt the air thicken as much as it had the moment Deanna and Margot Walsh had realized that they'd ended up breathing the same air. He couldn't tell what was more alarming, Margot's expression or Deanna's. It was clear that it took a few moments for Margot to recognize Deanna, but it was even more apparent on how little Deanna wanted the woman in the same living space. Deanna's nose was on a boarder line crinkle, lips twitching subtly at the suppression of a snarl. And her eyes...

They were harsh. There was no warmth in the pair in the slightest. It made no sense to Edward, who could recall his love for his mother on any given day, both Esme and Elizabeth Masen. He couldn't imagine any child hating the woman who was made to love, nurture, protect, to care for her or him. Edward couldn't read Margot's mind, much like he couldn't read Deanna's, only he could catch a few words, a few thoughts out of the blue, scrambled in messages he couldn't decipher. Whatever Deanna had, whatever prevented her from his "radar" wasn't caused from Katherine. No, this was purely a Walsh trait- Or a Swan trait? Yet he could read Charlie's mind...

It was all too confusing for a short moment.

"Deanna, who's this?" Margot asked, her eyes settling on Edward easily, not wanting to look at the hardened glare of Deanna. Margot could never quite understand why her daughter was so _difficult_. All her life, she dreamed of having a daughter to bring up, to be the epitome of charm and beauty, but all Deanna gave her was strife and rebellion. Where was the tie between mother and daughter that she heard so much about? That, Margot did not know.

"My name is Edward Cullen, Ms. Walsh," Edward answered when he saw that Deanna's lips were pressed together, no intent on speaking to her mother just yet. "I'm a friend of Deanna's, " he clarified with a smile on his lips. Margot's face twitched into a smile, uneasy and unsure as to why she was so charmed so easily. It was in this did Edward find a difference between Deanna and Margot: Willpower. If he was able to "dazzle" Ms. Walsh, then he was sure he could, at least, find some answers to what had happened between the two women. He knew it wasn't something most would linger on. However, most people weren't over a century old with time able to be spent so easily.

Margot's face broke into a full smile as she looked to her daughter, clasping her hands together in front of her as she spoke, "Oh, good for you, Deanna! Didn't I tell you that you'd make more friends?"

"No."

"Well, I should have!" Margot boldly professed. She moved across the living room, taking a seat across from the two. She stood out like a sore thumb in the cozy house. She looked to be a business woman on her way to a morning rush for coffee, but instead ended up in a quaint home for quiet living. She blinked three times, her eyes fighting to stay on Deanna, expecting word from her daughter. "I see you're making a recovery," she tried.

"Yes."

"When are you going back to school?" Margot asked, her eyes narrowing as she came to the real question she wanted to ask. "I'd hate for you to have to catch up too much. After all, school is what's going to get you into college! I never had the chance to go to college, but it was always your father's and my dream for you to go!" She encouraged, earning an irritated sigh from Deanna. "Don't be rude, Deanna Walsh. I brought you into this world, I will not hesitate to take you out of it," Margot snapped, her demeanor changing before Edward's and Deanna's eyes. While Edward's eyebrows furrowed, Deanna's whole face remained impassive.

"You've said that before, yet I'm still here," Deanna said carelessly with a shrug. "And if you have to threaten me _so many times,_ wouldn't that mean that you're hesitating?" She asked, crossing her arms. Margot gasped, her lips pressing together, jaw clenching with anger.

" _Watch yourself, Dea-_ "

"I have to. You never did," Deanna said lamely. Edward shifted in his seat, not wanting to leave, but also not wanting to remain visible.

Margot's face softened into heartbreak. He carefully watched Deanna's reaction and to his shock, Deanna seemed indifferent to her mother's apparent breakdown. This wasn't normal. Children were innately intuitive to their mother's feelings. Something was wrong, alarmingly wrong. Straightening her back, seeing Deanna's lack of empathy, Margot stood up, straightening out her skirt. With a fuming sigh, she drew in a shaky breath, trying to stop the tears welling in her eyes. "I'm going to visit Charlie... Do you need anything?" she asked, trying to remain as calm as Deanna seemed to be.

"No, ma'am."

At the sound of the door closing, Deanna's face collapsed into exhaustion, her hands slipping into her brown waves, eyes falling shut. Her apathy ironically seemed to take more out of her than it should have. When her eyes opened, she found gold staring back at her. She huffed, turning her head to the side, chin up proudly. Edward smiled at the gesture. If there was one defining trait that Deanna showed, it was pride in herself and her actions. He had to wonder if it was a weakness or strength for her. He could see that her pride was one of the prime comfort zones, but he could also picture it, easily, when her pride could be her downfall.

"You don't seem to like you're mother," he prompted.

"And you don't seem to understand that you're not entitled to my secrets just yet, _Cullen_ ," she said. If he didn't see the slight smile on her lips.

"When will I be entitled to your secrets?" he asked, a smirk playing on his own lips.

"To be decided," she shrugged, standing. "Now, seeing as you're some immortal who has nothing better to do-"

"What makes you say that?"

"You're going to highschool. Need I say more?" She asked with a mocking scoff. "So, with that being said, you can give me Vampire 101."

A few hours later, Deanna was lounging on the couch, thinking everything over. Edward watched her face and waited, but she never spoke a word. She just stared at the ceiling, eyes moving as if she were looking at the stars, trying to find a constellation. It killed him not to know what storm was brewing in her brain, but he was patient. If one thing was clear, it was that Deanna was capable of holding a grudge. A few minutes passed by, him just waiting for her to say something, but when they hit the thirty minute mark of silence, he cleared his throat, which never needed actual clearing.

"What are you thinking?"

Deanna moved to lie on her side, her eyes tearing away from the ceiling and focusing on him.

"I'm thinking of Katherine," she admitted. "I'm thinking of what this means for her... She'll never get what she wanted," she sighed, closing her eyes as her nose began to burn. "She's never going to get to grow up. Hell, how many jobs can you get when you look like a teenager?" she asked. Edward's eyes moved to the floor, and Deanna understood why he had stayed in high school. Young successful people attracted attention...

"She can still be happy," he tried. "We all found our bit of happiness," he tried.

"Yeah, but does the good outweigh the bad?" Deanna asked. "She wanted to be a psychologist, to help kids. She wanted to have kids one day and see them grow up to be the dinosaur and space loving nerds that she'd raise them to be... She wanted _love_. And now what? She gets to stay young forever and watch as all her friends and family pass away... She won't even be able to see it, will she?" Deanna asked, realizing what was stolen from Katherine. Sitting up, she covered her mouth, eyes wide. When Katherine ran away, she'd just have to cut off ties for a few years. She could have gone back to her family. She could have redeemed herself to the forgiving Marks family. But as a vampire, Katherine could never go back...

"Revealing ourselves to humans is against our laws..."

"What's the punishment for it?"

"Death if the human isn't turned," he answered grimly. Deanna's eyes widened, wondering what would become of her. She didn't want to be a vampire...

"I promise that my family won't... No one has to know about you," he vowed, his eyes never wavering from hers. She was a snow leopard. She didn't need to be be seen by everyone. All she needed was the attention from a few that she chose, and she was content with that. Beautiful things, some of the most beautiful, didn't ever seem to ask for attention. And Deanna, who seemed to like living in Forks, which had about as much attention as it had a drought that was worrisome.

"An immortal, law breaking, blood drinking guy... Boy, do I know how to pick friends," Deanna sarcastically shot at him before getting to her feet. "Is this the part where you leave?" She asked, looking at the door. "I mean, I could be wrong, but your family might want to know about, well, everything," she awkwardly shifted back and forth on the balls of her feet. Edward gave a nod before appearing in front of her in the blink of an eye, leading to a gasp and smack to the arm.

"Rule number one: No vampire tricks!" She hissed.

"Don't you know, I break the rules, Deanna," Edward chuckled, walking by her onto the porch. His feet stopped moving, and he turned, just looking back at her just once.

And there she was.

Her hair was a river, rippling waves with each movement of her head. The smile on her lips, tugging more upright on her right side that showed the light side to her animosity. He couldn't help but revel slightly in the sight. She was a rich Saturday morning. She looked comfortable, peaceful even, like a good dream that you weren't woken from, but could endear. That was the Deanna he liked.

Not the one that took over when her mother was there.

"Find Katherine. She'll need you guys," she said, not in a shout, knowing he'd hear. He gave her an assuring nod, if only to comfort her worries for the baby vampire that had left earlier.

Deanna watched silently, as the shiny volvo drove away, having been returned to pristine condition after Tyler's crash. When his car was out of site, she felt Loneliness come to her side, one of her most faithful friends. With a deep breath she stepped back inside, closing the door behind her. There was three thoughts that crossed her mind:

1) Katherine needed to be found.

2) Edward wasn't that bad.

3) Her mother was home.

It was the third that brought the most stress. Deanna's relationship with her mother was never commendable, but it was rarely mentioned why she didn't like her mother, or, at least, the real reason. The real reason would admit a vulnerability to Deanna, a vulnerability that she wasn't ready to admit to herself.

She didn't hate her mother.

She just couldn't let herself love her for _the reason_.

Closing her eyes, Deanna paused, looking over, Charlie's house, her home. Then, her eyes opened when she realized that Charlie had no idea what was going on. He didn't know about Katherine. He didn't know what happened to Deanna. And he certainly wouldn't get a chance to know if Deanna had a say in it. Charlie, though she loved him, received a different kind of love from Deanna. With Katherine, Deanna could hold no secrets for long from. Katherine and Deanna were equals, willing to fight and die alongside one another. Deanna and Charlie, on the other hand, was made up of protecting one another. Charlie could protect her from boys, insecurity, and disrespect. She would just have to protect him from finding out that he was living in a town where a coven of blood drinking immortals resided.

Easy.

Sort of.

Shaking her head, Deanna tried to retain her sense of normalcy and return upstairs where she would begin catching up on her work. Thankfully, Edward's not taking was spot on, neat, and border line font like in it's accuracy and precision of each line of graphite. This time, his perfection wouldn't annoy her. Now that she knew that _perfect Edward Cullen_ was actually perfect because he was dead and drinking from animals, it was easier to accept him. Drinking from bambi's mother was enough of an imperfection that Deanna would ignore her jealousy over everything that was "perfect."

So, for the rest of the day, Deanna slaved over all of her work, from momentum to trigonometry, she completed it all, only to end up hating herself over how much of her time was wasted on schoolwork. And by the time she was finished, she heard Charlie and her mother come in, calling her down for leftovers. And, for Charlie's sake, Deanna didn't seek out a fight with her mother.

"Your mother mentioned a boy being over," Charlie mentioned awkwardly, breaking the silence at the table where only she was eating. Deanna's eyes shot to her mother. She should have known Margot Walsh to rat her out. It wasn't a secret though, so Deanna tried to remain at ease.

"Yeah, Edward came over to help me catch up with school. Triangles and circles are kinda confusing," she joked, though she was being honest. She was fairly certain that the unit circle was going to be the end of her.

"Been gettin' close, huh?" Charlie continued, making her choke on her onion soup.

"Not like that," Deanna coughed, shaking her head. Her cheeks flamed, for the need of oxygen and out of embarrassment. Honestly, she wouldn't mind Edward. He was attractive, smart, and all-around a prime example of the perfect guy. He was polite, well-mannered, and was definitely capable of making sure she would be protected- not that she needed his protection. There was just one problem: He was an immortal teenager. She had too many dreams to give up for the sake of a highschool romance. She wanted everything in a human life: To be successful, have a nice home with a child or two, maybe a spouse, but that wasn't a necessity. She wanted to grow old and have a grandchild to spoil and youth to convince that she was crazy.

She couldn't have that with Edward.

He was attractive. He was everything she could want in a guy... But in the end, he couldn't give her the happy ending she was willing to fight for. She knew, she just _knew_ , that if she let herself get involved with him, if she let herself fall for him, she'd end up falling too hard. She'd fall, she'd give up her dreams for him, and then there would come a day when she'd realized what she'd lost. And then what? She couldn't just wait until her life was over with him. She'd have to live with a eternity of regret... And she wouldn't be able to end it herself because if she loved him, no matter how much regret she'd have, she would love him enough not to want to hurt him...

And that was why she couldn't let herself think of him in that way.

"He's just a friend," she said more to herself than to Charlie. Her eyes fell to her bowl, a bittersweet pain striking through her heart and slowly invading every drop of red in her veins as it spread through her. Even Charlie could see it, the sadness that she willingly wore. She took a deep breath, pushing the feeling away. Edward might live forever, but _her_ life was too short to waste on being sad. "So," she began with a smile, "Tell me about work."

* * *

 ** _Like I always say, I hope you're still enjoying this fic, I placed a little more Edward/Deanna in there, but we're taking this slow. Love doesn't just happen. Anywas, _****_if you would be so kind to share your thoughts of this chapter in your reviews, here's some guiding questions that will help:_**

 ** _1) What do you think is the real reason why Deanna doesn't like her mom? Ps: It's really no secret, but it might take some thought. She doesn't just dislike her for no reason._**

 ** _2) So, Deanna doesn't want to be a vampire. How do you think she'll become one? (Because it WILL happen)_**

 ** _3) What do you hope and expect to see when the "Meet the Cullens" chapter comes?_**

 ** _Please leave a review, they keep me alive,_**

 ** _~ Queen of Idjits_**

 ** _PS: Special thanks to_** _ **TheGryffinclawDemigod and wajagirlliz. And no, Katherine and Deanna aren't like the Volturi. The girls share a life bond of sorts. They're actually tied**_ _ **together. The Volturi are more like, for the lack of a better word - which I do apologize profusely for - , best bros who sometimes go a little too homicidal.**_


	11. Chapter 11

The morning painted the town like a horror movie. It was incredibly foggy, difficult to see anything, especially the road. The fog was ice cold where it burned any of Deanna's bare skin. She had decided to finally drive herself to school, only because Margot offered her a ride, but Deanna refused. Accepting Charlie's wouldn't be right, especially since Margot offered to give her a ride first. She figured that if she were going to die, it might as well be theatrical, to where they'd find her body just as the fog cleared or some other serendipitous moment.

It was such a thick fog that she was almost to her truck, such a nasty looking truck, when she saw _it_. It was shiny, glimmering, something she hadn't seen well due to the fog, but it still glistened like a shiny new toy. The Volvo. _His_ volvo. Deanna felt a rush of warmth at the sight of it. Deanna knew she must have looked as happy to see him as he was happy to see her based on the reciprocation of smiling. "Do you want to ride with me today?" he asked, already knowing the answer, seeing as she was already opening the passenger's door. "I'll take that as a yes," he chuckled, climbing back in.

They drove through the fog streets quickly, not that she minded if he did or didn't. All that mattered is getting to school. That's what she had to focus on. After all, if what he said was true, she was going to get to stay human, which meant that she only had one shot at high school and college. Deanna's eyes wandered from the street to him. He didn't even look at the road, which alarmed her at first before she realized he had no reason to really look all the time. Still, she told him to keep his eyes on the road anyways.

He did just that, but he kept a smirk oh his face. "You seem to take this better than most. Why?"

"If Harry Potter can't be real, then I guess vampires are my next best," she shrugged. "Every kid has an obsession. Some girls like dolls. Some like dinosaurs. Some like space. And some, like supernatural creatures. Some could pick a few, but Deanna was that child that adored them all. Needless to say, supernatural things were her favorite, ergo her .

"You as a little girl?" He looked like he was joking, but the question came out uncertain. He could picture it in his head. Little Deanna would be in a classroom, messy waves drawn up in pigtails or a ponytail, anything out of the way. She'd be at a desk, in class, and she'd be biting on her lip as she'd vigorously scribble on a page that wasn't even a coloring book. She didn't seem like a troublemaker, but she definitely didn't seem like a model student either.

"Well, what were you like as a child?" she asked sarcastically. "Do you even remember that far back, old man?"

"Not quite," he chuckled. "But if it's any consolation, I was good enough for my teachers to like me. At least more than some of yours today," he shot back at her, earning a roll of the eyes. Deanna could picture Edward. He'd be younger, baby fat still on his face as he'd be that one kid that would snitch on her whenever she'd try to leave the classroom. She couldn't help but smile at the thought of it. He'd be some light beige instead of white, and with-

"What color eyes did you have before?" She asked.

"Green."

\- _with_ green eyes... The thought alone was warm, nostalgic despite never knowing him as a human. She had to wonder what would he have been like as a human? Surely, he'd be as well mannered. Probably happier, sweeping some good woman off of her feet. Only this woman would be some blushing girl, who was as sweet as he. They'd grow old with three children and he'd become something _good_ like a teacher or doctor. He'd have his happily ever after, probably dying before Deanna was even born. If things were normal, she'd just be some sad little girl, going through everything alone, probably having to hide her friend for another year and a half. The weirdest part, though she didn't want to be a vampire, she was, oddly, glad he was.

"When you make faces like that, it makes me wonder what you're really thinking," he said quietly, pulling her out of her thoughts. Blinking, Deanna swallowed awkwardly.

"Too bad," she huffed, crossing her arms.

"It's really not fair."

"Not fair?!" She repeated, jaw dropped in astoundment. Edward cringed, realizing his mistake. "Oh, it's totally unfair that you have to endure not knowing what I'm thinking _just like everyone else_ ," she scowled.

"It... It's just driving me insane."

Deanna opened her mouth to argue further, but quickly shut her mouth. She knew that if she were in his shoes that she'd be just as irritated. In fact, she didn't even need too. She'd always wondered what went on in his mind. She just didn't see the point in asking like he did. Edward did note her silence and chose not to respond, just as they drove into the school parking lot. She quickly noticed something else.

"What'd your family say? They're not like hiding somewhere plotting to kill me, right?" She asked, half joking. A part of her wondered about his family, who usually surrounded him, yet they weren't in sight.

"They took Rosalie's car," He answered with a smile that quickly disappeared. "I was serious about protecting you, Deanna. _No one is going to hurt you._ "

 _Except for you,_ she thought inwardly as she climbed out of his car. It was probably a mistake being near him. She had feelings that were growing fonder, and she didn't want to want to have those feelings, but she indulged them anyways. She was biting into the apple, knowing it was no good. She was Eve. Though, she wasn't surprised. She never looked down upon that biblical tale. There was no beauty in a "perfect" life. Life was beautiful because of it's conflict and strife. No one wants to learn about time spent in peace or righteousness.

Under the shelter of the cafeteria roof's overhang, Jessica stood, wide eyes just like Deanna when she found out that Darth Vader was Luke's father. Needless to say, she didn't have to be a mind reader to know why Jessica was staring. It was one thing to exchange words with _Edward Cullen_ , but another thing for him to give her a ride. Deanna looked to Edward, cringing. "Don't you dare," she whispered when she saw him trying to escape down the path to his class. Deanna latched onto his bag, expecting him to be pulled, at least _a little_ , towards her. However, forgetting how strong he was, she ended up tumbling forward into him, but he quickly caught her, and steadied her. She gave a soft shove.

"Clumsy much?"

"Don't flatter yourself."

A loud, at least loud in comparison to his usual, laugh rang out, as he offered her a hand. It was a polite gesture, and deciding to humor him, she took it. He changed his course and made way for her first class. It was a sweet gesture, it really was, and, for once, Deanna kindly accepted it. She watched him out of the corner of her eyes, only to see him staring at her once more, causing her to look away until she heard him laugh once more causing her to pull away from him, muttering, "Jerk."

"Such a mean little girl."

"Shut up you old bat- Pun intended," she smirked, proudly.

"Not really a pun if we don't actually turn into bats," he said, leaning close enough to enter her personal space. She tried not to let it bother her, rolling her eyes as she took a step back, which he respected. Once the pair were at her classroom, he gave her a goodbye, which was interrupted by Jessica's shouting as she ran to catch up to Deanna, who shot a look of panic to him.

"What's she going to ask?"

A cheshire grin came over his face.

" _Cullen_ , I swear if you-"

"She wants to know if we're secretly dating. And she wants to know how you feel about me," he finally answered. " _And_ she intends to ask this in front of Mike Newton. Knowing him, which isn't that hard to do, I'll be listening to hear the answer to those myself. The school is small, walls are thin, and _you_ are the headlining news."

Deanna's eyes widened. She wasn't shocked at Jessica's question. She was just shocked by _his_ question.

"I'll be waiting," he mused, walking backwards as he carried on her lost gaze until the first bell rang.

 _"DEAN!"_

Deanna cringed, looking at an out of breath Stanley with a mess of curls and a smile just as big. Following her, not as out of breath, but looking as worried as Deanna was, was Mike Newton. Judging by the look on his face, he'd seen her too. Pursing her lips, Deanna gave Jessica a nod, wanting to get the worst over with, even if she, herself, didn't know the answer to the question. She knew what the answer _should_ be. It should be a "no." A flat "no" that assured the three (four?) parties that she was as single, as untangled from Edward's life as can be. However, she also knew what she _wanted_ it to be. That was a "yes."

"Morning, Deano," Mike greeted, taking the seat next to her prior to being shoved out of it by Jessica. "How are you? Better? I mean, you look better," he rambled lightly. Deanna smiled at him. Like it or not Mike was the sweet boy any normal girl would probably like.

"You do too. I heard you cried," Deanna mentioned, earning a blush from Mike. She shook her head smiling. "Sensativity is good, Mike. Not everyone likes stereotypical "men." It's okay for you to cry," she assured him, earning a bright and proud smile from him. Jessica briefly fumed, her feathers ruffled from the exchange. It was no secret how much Jessica liked him, but Deanna knew that Mike needed some words like that. "You don't need to be anything besides yourself, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear, Deano," he smiled.

Before Jessica could question, Mr. Mason called the class to order then, asking them to turn in their papers. Deanna's wasn't the best, having been punched out in a matter of two hours, but she was too tired to care the night prior. There was a certain point in teenage life where one stops caring about grades and just accepts a failure, however not bad or how really bad it was. It just so happened that Deanna had reached that point.

Pre Cal and then Government passed in a haze which mostly consisted of Deanna avoiding Jessica. She didn't want Edward to hear Jessica's thoughts, on her own answer, especially since she was conflicted on how she would answer. Based on Edward's willingness to leave it up to her, she knew his. To what extent, she didn't, but she did know enough to know that hers were being reciprocated enough to be "dating"- oh how that word made her cringe. It sounded to immature for what she wanted from him- Not that she wanted _mature_ things from him. She just didn't want just the childish, only holding hands, kind of thing. She wanted _understanding_ , loyalty, and equality as well as attraction from someone. Girlfriend and boyfriend sounded like what middle schoolers called each other.

She ran out of luck when she was cornered in the halls by Jessica, who was nearly shaking like a volcanic eruption when she realized Deanna couldn't run off. While some favored thinking that things would be better to just get over with as soon as possible, Deanna was a lot like Katherine in running from her problems. She still didn't know what the answer to which dynasty lasted the longest, and she didn't plan on finding out any time soon. However, this was no longer her choice, seeing as she had no where to run, and Jessica had longer legs. Though, Deanna did suppose that she could try running and see how much speed she had in her with her _enhancements_.

"Tell me everything!" she commanded before Deanna could even open her mouth to stop her.

"Why do you want to know?" Deanna whined, already knowing what Jessica wanted to ask.

"Because he's one of the hottest guys in school!"

Deanna cringed. Edward wasn't _hot_. Emmett was, which she was so glad to keep that opinion to herself. Edward? He was handsome. He was like a beautiful piece of artwork meant to admire, but never touch- not that she'd ever object to it.

"He just stopped by yesterday, dropped off my schoolwork and left."

Jessica glared at her, her face was rigid with uncertainty and dissatisfaction. Deanna did have to wonder why Jessica was so busy wanting something to be there when Deanna was certain that Jessica would rather be in her place.

"You sure that's _all_ that happened?" she asked, almost pleading for Deanna to at least liet to her, or at least lie with something better.

"I mean, I guess I could say that he helped me with learning," she said. It wasn't too much of a lie. She _did_ learn. About vampires. "He helped me understand how to solve for opposite and adjacent, but I'm still stuck on inverses," she lied. Once again it was a half lie, laced with just enough believable truth to make the lies seem bland in comparison.

"Was it like a date? A study date?"

"What date lasts fifteen minutes?" Deanna cringed.

Jessica let out a feral growl, on that even shocked Deanna at how primal it sounded. Her lips curled upward into a snarl of disappointment at the idea.

"But he picked you up for school today?" she pried once more.

"Yeah. If you haven't noticed, I don't ever drive to school on my own," Deanna retorted.

"What did you talk about? On the ride here, I mean," Jessica tried once again as she tugged the shorter girl girl towards the cafeteria. Deanna kept her mouth shut, shrugging lamely. "Please, _Dee_ ," she begged. "Give me some details."

"What do you want me to tell you?"

"That you're dating and that he's probably going to suck your face off in between passing period," she retorted. Deanna grimaced at the word "sucking." It was a poor pun that wasn't even intentional. She made note to use it later. However, based on her silence, Jessica seemed to grow even more restless. "I don't know why I'm asking... I'm sure he probably likes you." Deanna's ears perked at her words. Though, based on interpretation, he did seem to _like_ her, she wondered how much if Jessica could tell. "You guys seem, kind of, like, meant to be," she sighed with a smile. Deanna knew that smile. She knew it because she wore it whenever she read about her one true pairing becoming official.

"Why?" Deanna asked, genuinely curious, unable to hide the smile on her face.

"He's smart. You're smart. And you both have this air around you," she began, wafting the air as if it were a hot summer day, despite it probably never getting hot in Forks. "It's like, he seems to know exactly what everyone's thinking-" Because he did. "-and _you_ , well, you seem to just... It's weird. You don't seem to know exactly what people think, or feel, but at the same time you just _know_."

"Know what?"

"I don't know! You just _know_. Like, it's like you can look at someone, and it doesn't feel like you're looking at a stranger. It's like, whoever looks at you feels like you're some old friend that's just come back into their lives. It's not like you're seeing your best friend, but it's like seeing someone you once knew... Is that weird?" Jessica asked, her nose crinkling as she tried to make sense of it herself. Deanna nodded, wondering over these words. She wanted to believe she was special, but she also knew that the chances of some girl just having an "air" around her meant that she just looked confident enough to be noticed, but not enough to be dangerous. Maybe she just had "one of those faces." "That and he's freaking gorgeous."

"I don't mind his looks," Deanna admitted under her breath. As soon as she said it, she felt her feet stop. Damn it.

"Oh!" Jessica squealed. "Does that mean it's official? Do you like him? Not like, but, like, like _like_ him?" she asked like a giddy school girl on her first day.

"There's a lot more than looks in the world."

"Really? Like what?"

"Not all pretty faces are good. I mean, for all you know, I could be a serial killer," Deanna quickly shot at Jessica, earning a sharp glare. It was true though. Vampires were pretty faces, but they were ten times as deadly as they were beautiful. Even Katherine had grown profoundly beautiful, stunning even. No doubt, after controlling her thirst, Katherine would have a woman on her hip in no time. Deanna just wondered if she'd still be around by that time. According to Edward, Jasper still struggled, and it had been years since he went "vegetarian." Deanna didn't want to think of when Katherine would have to watch her grow wrinkly alone. One dream of growing to be old crazy cat ladies was down the drain...

"So you like him, then?" Jessica asked, ignoring Deanna's words.

"He's cool," Deanna tried.

"I mean, do you _really_ like him?" she asked, hoping for more.

Deanna paused, staring at the brown eyed girl for a solid moment before she decided on her own. She was going to do what she should do. She was going to say-

"Yes."

 _Damn it all_ , she swore inwardly. Her body was clearly torn in two, and, apparently, her mouth chose to side with her silly beating heart.

"How much do you like him?"

It was too late now to lie. So, Deanna told the truth.

 _"Enough for me to say it."_

* * *

 _ **Thank you GhostlySights and guests for reviewing! See, the faster people leave me reviews, the faster I'll update!**_

 ** _1) What do you think of Edward and Deanna?_**

 ** _2) What do you think will happen when Edward finds out that Deanna_ actually _likes him?_**

 ** _3) More fluff is to come, but also Katherine is going to return. How will she react to the pair?_**

 ** _Please leave a review, they keep me alive,_**

 ** _~ Queen of Idjits_**

 ** _PS: She's not a hybrid- Sorry. She's gaining everything from Katherine. Say if Katherine was to die, then Deanna would revert to normal. All freckles, tan, and messy normal hair galore._**


	12. Chapter 12

She ended up sitting across from him. There was a moment of silence, when she was just eating the apple. It wasn't an accident that an apple made it onto her plate. She knew Edward would know what she said the moment Jessica opened the doors to the cafeteria. So, Deanna had tried to keep her heart steady. She hated how sweaty her palms were, and how she kept her eyes glued to the ground, cheeks reddened. When it came time to picking food, only one thing crossed her mind: She was past the point of no return. She was going to bite into that metaphorical apple. It was only right that he knew what she was doing. And, when she took her seat, the first thing she did was pluck the apple from the tray and take a bite, her eyes on his, a silent message passing between the two of them, a conversation with only their eyes.

"How much is enough to say it?" He asked, an amused smile playing on his lips.

"Too much," Deanna said, after swallowing the bite of pizza. She had accidentally taken a bigger bite, ruining her chances at having a suave moment where she could could deliver a decent snappy "one-liner." A gulp of water later, she continued to elaborate, humoring him. "I shouldn't like you. If things got serious I'd _lose it_. Everything. I'd lose my chance at becoming a psychologist, of helping people. I wouldn't be able to have kids- if I wanted kids of my own. I wouldn't even be able to get the senior citizens discount that I've been looking forward to using since I aged out of a children's discount," she smiled, halfheartedly.

"I know."

"And yet you still haven't stopped me," Deanna sighed, irritated at his respect of her. Though she did like how he left it up to her, she hated that if anything were to happen, it would be her fault. "You know, it probably says something about you - leading me on, knowing that this won't end well." She tried to start on her half-heated pizza, but the topic at hand ate away at her appetite. Frustrated, she dropped it onto the plate, giving him her full attention.

"It says something about you to try to pin the blame on me," he threw back. "I'm just as hopeless as you are."

"Yeah, but you're supposed to be more mature!" Deanna argued. "You're like a century older, whereas I'm just a teenager. If anyone is taking the blame, it's you," she smiled, showing she wasn't serious. Still, she became somber when she saw he wasn't smiling. "What?"

"You can't be considering this," he whispered, a frown on his face as he tried to make sense of her. "It thought you were smarter-"

"So did I," She scoffed. "It's just a matter of what is and what should be. I _should_ stay away from you. You _should_ stay away from me... But here we are. You and I, I and you. That's what is. If you're going to leave, you know where the door is. I'm willing to at least try to make this work, at least until graduation. We'll both have to leave then, and I guess that's the perfect time to end this - if we even make it that far-"

"If that's what you want."

"It is," she admitted with a smile. She knew that it wasn't wise. She knew that, even if things went according to plan, that she'd still end up heartbroken. Yet, she chose to follow humanity, and focus so much on the good that the bad didn't seem to exist. And, maybe it was the way she smiled at him. Maybe it was how her eyes lit up like the stars, and her smile was as bright as the sun, but, in that moment, Edward felt as though he could do the seemingly impossible... Like take a girl like her to an event like _prom_.

"What's your favorite color?" He asked curiously, leaning back in his chair, watching as she regained her hunger. A pensive look came over her face as she rolled the idea over in her mind, a moment to revel in the semi-good pizza.

"Blue. Like the sky," she finished, thinking he was making small talk. When she spotted the change of a smile to a smirk, did she feel her heart sink. She could tell he was drumming up a plot, a scheme that would bring her demise and his pleasure. Perhaps it wouldn't be catastrophic, he wasn't sadistic. However, she knew that if he was anything like her, the occasional pain of others would please him. The only difference in how she felt about it was when it was her, whose pain others would enjoy. Hypocritical, she wouldn't deny it was, but she would fight against it with everything she had. "Why?"

"Are you free this weekend?" He asked patiently, ignoring her question.

"I'm free every weekend. I just choose to be a hermit and spend my time obsessing over fictional characters rather than go shopping with Jessica or to the movies with Mike," she teased, sparing a glance at the table where such people were gawking at them. Though she originally thought she would hate herself, for becoming apart of some "exclusive" relationship with someone who seemed to be superior to others, there was a sense of pride in knowing the secret. There was an understanding as to why the Cullens had to keep their distance.

"This weekend you have plans, with me," Edward clarified, not taking no for an answer this time. Deanna had to wonder what the boy had up his sleeve. When it came to starting, whatever it is they had together, he left it solely up to her. However, this time, she hadn't a choice. This meant it was minuscule of a decision, or that it was something that he knew she wouldn't want to do. Now, if she were to place money on which it was, she'd place her dollars on it being something she wouldn't enjoy. "Be ready by noon on Saturday."

"Why?"

"Because, Deanna Walsh. You'll be meeting my family."

Deanna looked across the cafeteria at to where his family should have been sitting. If she closed her eyes, she could picture them, a moving painting, each one of them looking at her. Emmett would be frowning, but not scowling. Next to him would be Rosalie, the blond haired goddess of wrath with looks that could kill. Her delicate features would be contorted into a snarl, and, even then, Deanna could gaze at the woman with nothing but awe. Across from the two would be Jasper, him and his black eyes would watch her. His look would be the one to be more difficult to decipher. His jaw would be clenched, but black eyes would stare at them, and in that black, she could see none of his thoughts or reactions to Edward's plan. And, finally, there would be Alice Cullen. Deanna wanted to hope that the little pixie of a girl would have a look of excitement, but a part of her knew better. Despite how Edward described the human friendly girl, she'd always kept a distance from Deanna.

"No."

"No?" Edward repeated, leaning back into his chair amused. "You start a relationship with a vampire, and he asks you to meet his family, and you say _no_?"

"I'd say _hell_ no, but I figured that would be too rude," she countered with. She let out a faint snort, shaking her head at him. "I can handle a relationship with a vampire- considering the fact that he sparkles like some underage teenager trying to get into an after-hours club. What I don't think I can handle is being in a secluded area where my only company is a bunch of vampires that probably hate the idea of you and me," she explained, cocking up a challenging eyebrow as if to invite him to try to argue with her on the matter. "Plus, why do you want me to? Don't you think it's kind of risky for me to meet them. This isn't supposed to get serious," she sighed. As much as she wanted it to, it was a bad idea.

Edward's smile faded, his back straightening as he sat upright in his chair. He ran his hands through his hair, raking the bronze mess atop of his head. Thoughts were running through his mind, but Deanna couldn't tell exactly what. Both knew what the other wanted. They wanted what everyone wanted. And, looking at each other, it was a temptation of a lifetime and it looked so good at first glance. It was inviting, the possibility of a real connection, both emotional and thoughtful. But, on the other hand, both wanted to be human, and though Edward could never have that, she could. The only thing that stood in the way of getting what they wanted was, ironically, what they wanted.

"I... I can't help it," he said quietly. "I want you to stay, but I know you can't. Just humor me, just once," he pleaded. He didn't say anything else, and he didn't need to. One look in his eyes told her everything. She could see the battle in his eyes as clearly as if she knew she felt it. And, in that moment, she understood what it was like to understand another as if they were speaking his or her thoughts and emotions aloud. She could see why he was so intent on knowing what she thought all the time. She had to wonder how much she'd give if only to hear him like she heard herself.

"I get it," she sighed, not wanting to be telling the truth, but knowing that her words were exactly that. "I know what's right, what's good for me, which would be anything but this," she began, seeing the solemn expression on his face. Gingerly, her right hand stretched towards his face, her fingers brushing against his right cheekbone. She felt her nerves spike at the cool skin, but she rested her warm hand on the side of his face, her thumb gently running over his cheek. " _This_ is bad for me... But I've never been one to choose what's good," she finished with a smile, letting her hand fall to her side once more. She stood up, picking up her tray and his. "You owe me, Cullen," she teased before moving to throw away her food.

When she turned on her heels, she found him already headed her way, bag in hand, ready to escort her to her next class like the gentlemen he was. They didn't touch as they walked. Their fingers never laced together romantically, and a smile graced neither of their faces, but there was a radius around the two of them. It was as if there was a barrier around the two, a circle which only they could exist. They didn't need to share physical contact, and anyone around them could see it. The two would be walking, casually as if they existed outside of time, and the moments in which their eyes would meet, there was _something_ there. Not words, not thoughts, just _something_. It was that feeling that builds in ones chest, a surge of warmth, happiness, _power_. Those who bared witness to the magnetic pair couldn't help but speak of it, struck by the sight of something so _human_ that it was unnatural.

The rest of the day passed, Deanna switching her focus to schooling, refusing to let her work be lead astray by a captivating being such as Edward Cullen. Her mind would wane from her subjects to him, but not for long. When the last bell tolled, signalling a finished school day, she couldn't help but be relieved. Though it was impossible to think of him at all times, she couldn't help but want to think of him more than verifying Pythagorean identities.

And when gold met green, once again, it was enough for an audience to be made of those around them, some staring in shock, others confusion, and a selected few in disapproval, and one of them was with golden eyes. Yet, as quickly as they were in sight, they were gone, disappearing in a volvo fading as it drove away from Fork High School.

Upon pulling into the gravel of the Swan residence, Deanna made no move to undo her seat belt. She simply sat still, staring at the house. Edward would have asked her why she wasn't making way to her home, in every sense of the word, but then he took in a breath and knew then that her mother was somewhere inside. "You know, it might be wise to introduce me to her," he said quietly, trying to, at the very least, get her to move.

If there was one thing he knew, it was that Deanna didn't stand still. He could tell that she was a lively person, even though she could be reserved and introverted, she often showed movement of thoughts and swirls of emotions in the bright green pools above her cheekbones. To see all that liveliness, that spark in her eyes, vanish, it destroyed him. He couldn't understand why, why all of her seemed to turn off at the thought of her mother. His eyebrows instantly furrowed, his lips hardening into a frown, and his whole body shifted to look at her more closely as if he'd be able to see her thoughts more clearly if he could see her just as clearly.

"Or Charlie," he added, knowing she was always soft towards her uncle. He couldn't stand the coldness, the hollowness in her eyes, that he'd willingly accept being in the dark about this part of her life, if only to see that light come back into them. Deanna's lashes fluttered lightly before she turned her head away from him, her hair falling over her face. For a second he thought she was going to snap at him, to begin to be the hardened girl that was trying to push him away, but then she looked over her shoulder, staring directly into him.

"The window will be unlocked. Ten o'clock."

With that, she left, swiftly leaving him to only his thoughts and questions. For someone who had lived a whole lifetime, he'd never been left with more questions and anticipation. What a strange experience for _him_ to be the one that is _speechless_.

Deanna had went to her room, a straight and direct line of travel. She dove into her homework, staying busy even passed dinner. And, though it broke her heart to say no to Charlie, when he came to her door, pleading her to go downstairs and eat, she looked him dead in the eyes and declined with no visible remorse. Her mother and her were not friends. They weren't family. They were strangers with a partial DNA match, should anyone feel the need to test it, and, unsurprisingly, Deanna made sure to test it a time or two over.

When she ran out of homework, she ran a bath. And as the violin music played, the only thing she heard among the movement of water was Edward's distress. She may not be the softest person int the world, but she was still human. That part of her, the very core of her that had warmth for people, couldn't help but feel bad for him. She felt like everything she'd worked to build herself anew in Forks was falling apart, and it was by her own stubbornness that she gave confusing messages. She was just fighting herself.

As the time ticked away, Deanna found herself lying on her back, on the floor, staring at the ceiling as her thoughts became stars and she tried to navigate through them. Admitting what she was about to was something that terrified her. Deanna valued being as independent as she could, never relying on others, with the exception of two. Being vulnerable, saying something that she never said aloud before. Each breath was a shudder as the clock began to tick closer and closer to ten. The very second the clock struck ten, she felt a strand of her hair move.

She opened her eyes, craning her neck to see him, from an upside down view, but he was just as beautiful in his brooding exterior. He could see the distress that was eating her, and when he leaned close, Deanna's eyes fell closed, a weary sigh escaping her lips a few seconds before she felt his cold lips. There was a spread of coolness from her forehead from where his lips had graced her skin, and that moment, it was a milestone. It was a picture of something they'd never shared before. It was Deanna, a fragility about her that he hadn't yet seen. It was the vulnerability, the delicateness of humanity that he had forgotten was in her. And in him, the way his eyes gazed onto her pained features, was a protectiveness, a compassion of humanity that he'd also forgotten was in him. It was so precious, for a moment as such to be captured in both of their memories.

"Why?" was the only word that left his lips as he lowered himself onto the bed, minding where she was. Her arms moved to cover her eyes, not wanting to see his face as she contemplated speaking. For her, admitting such was almost too much to bare. With Katherine, she never said it. She never _had_ to say it because Katherine shared an almost telepathic connection. But with Edward, it was the painful reminder of what it was like to be normal. It was that fight for what one wanted because the best of things could never come easy, especially when dealing with someone like her.

Her hands fell off of her eyes, the lids moving to reveal a pair of greens that seemed luminescent in the moonlight. She sat up. It was her last mechanism for feeling at ease. She hated the feeling of weakness, of inferiority. It was the very thing that she'd been fighting for her whole life: Equality. She had fought tooth and nail to get to where she was, to have as much self worth as she did at this point. She came from a middle class family, not quite poor, but also not rich enough to _not_ struggle or worry. Her go-to shopping places were those of which ranged from two to twelve dollars for clothing items, which caused some animosity with her peers from time to time. Then there was her gender. Although women's opportunities and states have been improved, there was no denying that there was a wide enough gender gap to alarm those that got the short end of the stick: Female.

Lastly, there was her sexuality. Once again, she had to admit to the improvements in acceptance when it came to sexuality aside from heterosexuality, but there was difficulty in bisexuality. She'd wasn't overly vibrant with it, but she never denied it. She felt it was only best that it should only be answered if asked. Though, there was some ambiguity to her because of things she'd heard, such as bisexuality didn't "exist", or that it was "just a phase." She overheard her grandmother saying that people like herself were sexually greedy, polyamorous, cheaters that were scared of commitment. All of which was a lie.

But her sexuality wasn't the subject at hand. It was just a portion adding to her drive to always make sure she felt as though she was a respected equal and nothing less. That was precisely why she sat up. If she was going to bare a part of herself to him, she had to know that he couldn't see her as something he needed to shield from all that was bad. She refused to look the victim when the only person that stood in her way was herself and her inability to forgive in the present.

"I can't forgive my mother," she whispered, barely even a whisper itself. It was so light, such a breathy voice that it almost was carried away by the ever spinning fan above them.

"What did she do?" he asked gently, his hand resting gently over hers. He knew she didn't want to be coddled, but a simple gesture, a prompting to continue, was enough.

 _"She left me."_

Edward remained silent, but his frown became more prominent, his eyes searching into hers as he was gifted with a tidal wave of excruciating memories that resurfaced from her mind, memories she tried to tune out for years.

"From the moment I left the hospital after I was born to my sixth birthday, I hadn't realized who my mother was. The woman downstairs, I don't even _remember_ her from anything beyond seven years old. I was just left to the care of my grandmother... She was the one who taught me how to read and write. She read my stories, she taught me to make up my own. Grams wasn't just _grandma_. I only ever knew her as _Ma._ Then one day, my mom, _Margot_ , she came home, I know she came once every one to two weekends, but my first memory of her was when she came to get me.

"I knew that if I left with her that I'd never see Grams again. I knew she was old, and, man, she was so _tired_. I was so stubborn too. I never let her sleep because, I guess, deep down, I knew that if she did sleep, then she'd..." Deanna's eyes swelled with tears as she her jaws clenched. He could see it in her eyes. He could see it in her voice and how difficult it was for her to even choke out the words, _"... you know."_ She hadn't properly mourned.

"And you left with your mom?" He asked quietly.

"More like _dragged_ out," Deanna snorted bitterly, shaking her head as if to shake the memory away. He had to wonder how she grew up in order for her to feel like all that pain could just sit inside her, buried with the intent of it staying so.

"That doesn't explain why you don't like your mom," he argued. "I would think that you would have latched onto your mother after that..." He paused for a moment, mentally going back over what she had just said, when it dawned on him. "Unless you think she never loved you to begin with..."

Deanna's lips closed, a deep breath taken in as she tried to recompose herself, but the moment she saw that he was sure of what he just said, was the moment that air fled her lungs, and her demeanor shattered.

"She didn't even _keep_ me."

The first tear of many slipped down the side of her cheek.

"She couldn't even make it a _single fucking month_ before she threw me into the care of strangers," she spat, everything coming out of her mouth like an overdue volcanic eruption. "She didn't _know_ me. She didn't _want_ to know me! She just... She just..."

Her lips began to quiver, and her face collapsed into the cover of her hands as she began sobbing, years of bottling in years of resentment, insecurity, and _pain_ sweeping out of her like nothing before. This was when he moved to hold her. He hadn't held her upright because he knew that the moment wasn't for togetherness, wholeness, or strength. This was for a moment where she would know that it was okay to cry. So, he slipped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her towards his to cry on. At first she pushed and tried to fight it, but the second she stopped fighting was the second she latched onto him, finally leaning on him for support.

"I can't... I can't _love_ her..."

"I know..."

After almost a half hour of tears, she spoke once more.

"It's the _real_ reason I tried not to love you..."

"Hm?" He hummed into her ears, trying to preserve how calmed he had gotten her. Though, it was mostly out of pure tiredness, she had stopped sobbing, just leaning into him as he held her close.

"I hate you - or at least I tried to... because when I look into your eyes, or _hers_ , I see who I once was," she whispered, lifting her head from his chest, where she found herself leaning into more. Though there was redness in her eyes and in her nose, emotion looked beautiful on her. It didn't make him want to cringe and look away from her. If anything, it made him fall even more for the same girl who was as strong as she could be vulnerable. "You made me feel like that pale, scared little girl, who smelled like the ocean with all the salty tears I shed. And I tried to hate you, because when the last time I began caring for someone who wasn't _just_ like me, I was told that I was loved, by both my mother and father. Both of them said it, you know. One just said it earlier than the other, but both _just_ went back to living their lives as if I never existed, while I was forced to survive behind the black gates of a school that never accepted me. I tried to hate you, because if I didn't, I know in my heart that I'd end up loving you..."

"And your mother?"

"And her... But love, loving someone is great, but the most painful thing in the world is when you lose them. And I'll never, _ever_ , want to feel what that feels like again..."

He couldn't help but feel at a loss at her words. They weren't a lie, but they were as tragic as they were true. He himself understood them. Yet, at the same time he didn't want to believe them.

"And I realize something..."

"And that is?"

"I'm dreading graduation..."

"It doesn't have to end there."

"Doesn't it?"

"I can't believe I'm about to say this..."

"Say what?"

"That maybe the alternative won't be as bad..."

Her head turned towards him, she propped herself on her elbows, frowning as she began to understand what he was saying.

"I might just be the worst person on the planet to suggest this, but maybe it wouldn't be as bad..."

"What wouldn't?"

 _"To become like me."_

* * *

 _ **So, I kinda got carried away with this chapter! Special thanks to all who reviewed, but EXTRA special thanks to**_ ** _ShigureAyameHatoriFanClub_ _and_ _Sephora! I loved your reviews! They practically inspired an extra long chapter! So, thank you so so so very much!_**

 ** _Once again, I leave you with a few questions, starting with, "Hey, are you still enjoying this?"_**

 ** _1) What do you think of Deanna's confession?_**

 ** _2) What do you think of Edward's suggestion and what that says about their relationship?_**

 ** _3) The Meet the Cullens will have to happen next chapter(so sorry), but in light of this chapter, how do you think that'll go?_**

 ** _Love you all! WE HIT THE FIFTY REVIEW MARK!_**

 ** _~Queen of Idjits_**


	13. Chapter 13

As soon as the words left his lips, he regretted it. He couldn't believe the very words that left his lips. _Become like him?_ That was out of the question. At least, that's what he wanted to believe. He wanted to believe that he wouldn't as low as to condemn such a intricately bound girl to such a life of death and soullessness, where almost all humans looked at him as if he were a god or more, when he saw himself as nothing short of a nightmare under the guise of one's most beautiful dreams. Yet, there was something in him, something _deep_ in him that swatted the thoughts away. His whole second life was defined around the idea that his kind walked around without souls, that the only love that they were allowed was in the same soulless creatures they knew, or through the blind adoration that humans gave them out of some compulsory need to be near something as exquisite as they were. But _she_ wasn't. She wasn't some starry eyed girl, love-struck. She wasn't some human that was obsessed with youth and beauty. She was just Deanna Walsh.

She was the human that made him question _everything_. She defined humanity as the ability to reason, to choose to be more than just animals bound to survival. She defined it as being able to hope, to dream. She built the idea of humanity in the ability to _feel_. Humanity, to her, was being able to love or grieve. It was in the warmth in one's chest, the joy that filled ones spirit when gazing upon something so lovely that the brain can't help but fire off signals to engrave the moment in memories. Humanity was being able to _feel_ pain, to feel longing, to _want_ more, and to seek it out. And if all her ideas of humanity were true, if humanity was based on trying to understand oneself and the ones around them, then Edward couldn't help but think that he was more human than most humans were. How could he not have a soul when he loved his family? How could he be a monster, when all he wanted was to shield Deanna from all that would make her shed more than a single tear? How a human shatter everything he thought he knew?

He couldn't understand any of it until he saw her staring at him. There was no shock in her eyes, no panic at the thought of becoming like him. Based on the pain in her face, the longing she so clearly was emitting at the thought, he knew that a part of her _wanted_ to consider his idea. When she looked away, he knew her answer. She didn't want to be what he was. She was content with a short life. She wanted a life so brief that everything would become priceless in her one and only life.

"Forget I said that," he pleaded, feeling her breathing even out, seeing her chest rise and fall to a slow cadence.

"Not a chance," she sighed, eyes closed, voice barely audible for a human, but perfectly loud for him to hear her. That was the one vampiristic trait she took advantage often.

A smile broke onto his face as he placed a gentle kiss on top of her head. He was thankful in that moment that her blood didn't cry out for him. In fact, it was almost easy for him to hold her so close. It wasn't like smelling normal blood. It wasn't smelling his next _drink_. It was like smelling a flower, or taking in a deep breath outside. It smelled clean, _soft_ , and appealing, but a scent to be admired, not thirsted on. For that, he could be thankful for. To hear her was to find clarity. To see her was endearing. However, to hold her, to touch her, it was finding peace. Such peace, that he closed his eyes for a moment, and he could almost feel what it was like to sleep again, to _dream_. Such a strange woman she was, indeed.

As the night passed on, Edward held her close until he heard Charlie wake up in downstairs. Though he didn't want to leave, especially after what she had just said, he knew he had to. As he gently moved her, to hold onto a pillow instead of him, he paused, looking at the girl. A part of him wanted to stay, to shield her. His first thought was to protect her for as long as he could, regardless of what she said. However, he also knew that if he did that, he'd just cause the pain himself. _That_ was what felt so strange and foreign to him. She was the odd one out. She didn't want to be protected, but, more importantly, she didn't need to be. When he wondered what would happen if he wasn't there to protect her, it dawned on him that she didn't need it. She'd do it herself.

With that realization, Edward felt himself relax to a degree before he left, knowing that even though she would have to face the very thing that pained her the most, she would be okay. She didn't need his protection.

When Deanna woke, she found herself alone, briefly wondering if she dreamed everything. When she looked in the mirror and her hair wasn't tangled, and when she didn't fall from being tangled in sheets, she knew Edward must have been there, having brushed her hair with his fingers, the feeling returning to her like a ghost, an echo of a memory. So, when she realized that she had said everything to him, she almost felt the need to build more walls, knowing that he knew a part of her that was so sensitive, so _vulnerable_. Yet, her second thought was to remember that he wasn't the kind to use that against her.

That kind of trust built up a strange combination of fear and tranquility at the same time. Fear came from the girl who refused to share her existence with _anyone_ outside of Katherine and Charlie. The calmness, the peace of mind, came from being able to share her existence with _someone_ outside of Katherine and Charlie. It was a pleasant thrill. So, with a faint smile she tugged on some comfortable pants and a sweater before she went downstairs. Charlie, once again, noticed the change. He had noticed the lack of hostility towards her mother. He noticed how Deanna didn't sound like a dying whale, stuck on the beach. Lastly, he noticed the way she smiled.

"Happy for the dance?" he guessed. She'd never been one to be excited over the normal teenage things. When she was at St. Marys, she'd never mention any boys from St. Brutus's Academy for Boys, or any interest in any celebrity. Hell, she never even mentioned a _special girl-_ that conversation had been too painfully awkward for him. He definitely didn't want that again.

Deanna was in the middle of wiping the crumbs of toast off of her lips, but froze at the question. It was a brief fault, but she quickly shook her head.

"Is it a boy?"

"Yeah," she answered.

Charlie's eyes narrowed in on her. Though most thought he wasn't observant, he was still a cop. He knew what she was doing, and Deanna knew it too. He could still remember teaching her when she was still in pigtails. _Don't give anyone anymore information than they need. Try to stick to yes and no. Eye contact, make sure it's not too much or too little..._

"Which boy?"

"Edward Cullen."

Charlie couldn't tell if he was excited or just plain worried. On one hand, he was happy that she was taking an interest in _anyone_. He knew she didn't like to be bothered most of the time, but he also knew that she was human, and that she craved to have company in those she deemed worthy of it. However, on the the other hand, he was worried because of the _someone_ that she was apparently being influenced by.

"What's he doing?" Charlie asked curiously, leaning into the counter, watching her expression change from being careful to irritation. At first, Charlie feared that it was directed at him. And, though he was a cop, he was scared of one thing: Loneliness. He was always so careful. With Bella, he tried not to hover, to give her space out of fear that she'd grow tired or angry with him and leave. In the end, she left anyways. With Deanna, he knew that she needed a parental figure. Why she didn't find one in her actual parents was above him, but he did know enough to know that she found one in him. Still, he was struggling to find his footing with being lenient or stern, not that she ever gave him a reason to do so.

"He wants me to meet his family today," she mentioned, a disdained look coming over her. Charlie laughed, both relieved and amused at the irritated teen in front of him.

"You don't think they'll like you?" He guessed. Her eyes rolled.

"I don't care if they like me or not," she said lamely. He should have guessed that much. She was never one to be too bothered with opinions, which was why he wanted her to become a cop - plus, the fact that he liked to indulge the thought of being like those fathers whose kids took after them- since she was fond of hard evidence.

"So what's that sour look for?"

" _I_ don't care what they think of me, but _he_ might."

Charlie's smile fell as he saw something in her, something he saw from time to time: Fragility.

"If he leaves you over family-"

"It's not that," she quickly cut him off, waving her hand in the air as if to swat away the idea running through his head. "I just... I know it's important to him, not _too_ important, but important enough. It's like, you want to make someone happy. You might not like it, but you know it's a reasonable thing to ask for, not too much of a sacrifice. That's what this," she drew circles around her face with her index finger. "-is for."

Charlie hesitated, wondering if she was going to ask him for permission to go, but when it never came, he registered the fact that she didn't need to. He trusted her. She didn't lie to him, and knowing Deanna, she wouldn't stay out late. She'd answer his calls, and she loved him too much to disappoint him. She didn't need permission to something she knew he'd say yes to. He would never deny her a chance to be a normal teenager. So, when the doorbell rang, he slid her a to-go plastic cup of coffee and sent her on her way. With a thankful smile, and a warm hug, she swiftly walked out the door. Charlie would have wanted to see her out had he not heard Margot come downstairs, _and_ she woke up about as well as her daughter did most days.

"Where she goin'?" Margot mumbled, rubbing her tired eyes.

Charlie looked over his shoulder, and without hesitation he answered with, "SAT study session. She didn't want to go after school in case it would mess with her homework, so she opted for a Saturday." He gave a shrug, and blinked a few times before gruffly shuffling back to the kitchen. Margot never questioned his words. After all, no one expected Charlie to lie.

People always underestimated him.

When Deanna saw Edward at her door, a smile came over her, despite the fact that she was fixing to "face-off" with his family. _Deanna vs. Vampires_ _: Part One_ , she thought to herself, with a snort as she climbed into his car. Edward shot her a curious look, but she shook her head, which then earned an irritated look. As much as he did like her, and as much as she liked him, he wasn't entitled to her thoughts, making the first few minutes of the drive spent in thick silence. After his face relaxed, the silence thinned.

As soon as they were out of the town limits, thick underbrush and green-swathed trunks replaced the lawns and houses. Edward began to wonder if she was bothered by his fast driving, but she seemed at ease, as if she herself had driven as fast as he did her whole life. The thought of her behind a wheel almost made him smile, but what truly did make him smile was when her hand went to the passenger's door, rolling down the window. It wasn't windy in Forks, but as fast as he was driving, it was enough. She rested her elbow on the windowsill, shifting to turn towards it.

"What are you doing?"

"There's so many colors in this place. I don't want to miss one because of your tinted windows," she shrugged, never looking away from the passing threes. Edward chuckled at her reasoning.

She was a strange one.

"You have a penchant for admiring beauty," he noted.

"I guess it's a good thing your family's got that one down," she smiled that he saw in the right mirror. "Your sister may hate me, but I've got to say that she's stunning."

"Should I be jealous?" he joked.

"Very," she threw back, finally giving him a direct and full smile as she pulled away from the window.

"Oh, however could I compete with her," he played along. "I suppose I'll just have to make you love me first."

"And if you're already there?" she asked quietly, the smile coming off of her face. Edward's eyes snapped to her, staring into those greens, searching for any truth to her suggestion.

"You love me?"

"Don't ask stupid questions..."

"So you did?"

"How would that make you feel

"Like I'd never want to lose you... that I don't think I could go on without someone like you."

"Don't say that," she quickly snapped, looking away.

"Did you not mean it?" he asked loud enough for her to hear the pain in his voice.

"I meant it... I just... I just... I don't need to feel that pressure. One day you're going to have to go one without me, and I don't want to hear that you won't," she admitted.

"I know."

"Did you mean it?" she asked, looking at him. "About becoming like you?" she asked.

"I would like forever with you, but I... I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"That the you that stays behind will be some soulless woman in the shell of someone I once knew and loved," he confessed, his eyes darkening, yet staying the same exact shade. "If you stay, I'd lose you. If you go, I still lose you..."

"You have me now," she insisted, placing her hand over his. "Focus on that," she said, trying to give him a smile. She knew it wasn't wise to love him like she did. It wasn't the kind of love that was like Romeo and Juliet. She wasn't ready to throw away everything for him- then again, that's not what she ever thought love was. Love wasn't throwing away things. Love was _giving_. She wasn't going to lie or die for him, but she did love him. She love him, but some things are more important than love.

"I love you."

"Why does that sound like an apology?" she groaned looking out her window. She wished it were as easy as in the stories. To fall in love with someone and be wild and free together, but in reality, love is confessing one's feelings for another, it could be doing more harm than good. In stories, Love used to be enough. Now it's just a taste to remind one of everything they thought they could have. Perhaps, in another life, they would have worked out. They would have both been human, both in love, and living the time of their lives. But that wasn't what it was. Deanna couldn't help but picture that they were night and day, and their love was a solar eclipse. The saddest part was that it was a rare event, beautiful, but it still comes to an end.

"I can't condemn you to this life."

"I don't want that kind of life! I just want you!" Deanna shouted before sighing and running her fingers through her hair. She shot him a sharp look. "And don't you bitch about being soulless. The fact that you don't want me to be like you is enough proof that you have one," she added with a scowl. And, once again, the silence was thick. She was clearly angry, angry at him and angry at herself. Why was it that happiness never came easy to her? Why was it that when she finally was able to get what she wants, she had to give up something equally important.

"I think you're right," he said quietly, gently, not wanting to provoke her once more. Her eyes remained fiery, despite their cold color. His, however, were soft, but pained. "I didn't want to think of it at first... I was too busy punishing myself for everything I've done. I didn't want to think I had a soul, but now? I can't help but _feel_ it. Before I met you, I was dead inside, but the one thing that I know, the only thing that makes me feel like blood is still coursing through my veins at all, is that I love you, completely, fully, _desperately_. And that feeling? You're right... I have one, but that doesn't make turning you okay."

Deanna felt her heart begin to burn in the agonizing pain. Neither of them were hiding behind their excuses. She wasn't hiding behind anger, and he wasn't hiding behind antagonizing what he was. Yet, the problem still stood. The good that came with the life he lived, it had downsides that were more heavy. She loved him. He loved her. That was the problem. She loved him too much to just let him go. He loved her too much to let her stay.

"So where does that leave us?" he asked as he saw his house come into view.

"Exactly in the same place as we were before: Happy, sad, angry, and in love... All at the same time," she sighed before placing a hand over his. "Now. Let's go and meet your family," she smiled, her voice coated in sarcastic joy. Though he knew it wasn't to comfort him, or put him at ease, it did give him a choice to temporarily ignore their problem.

Deanna saw no harm in putting the problem off until later. Instead, she focused her eyes on the beauty before her. In a clearing of the forest there was five- no, six! -primordial cedars that shaded an entire acre with their vast sweep of branches. The trees casting a large shadow right up to the walls of the house that rose among them, making obsolete the deep porch that wrapped around the first story of it. The house itself was stunning. It looked both old and new. It looked old as in it looked somewhat from another time, yet also new as in it looked recently built, _freshly_ colored a faded white, three stories tall in it's well proportioned rectangular glory.

"How do you ever leave your house?" She asked as she shut the door behind her, never looking away from the beauty before her. Edward chuckled, happy to see her no longer pained, but rather happy from the artwork before her. He took note of this for future arguments that they would undoubtedly have. He gingerly took her hand in his and began to lead her towards it, hearing his family move about inside. They, without a doubt, knew that Deanna was there. When they reached the threshold, he made sure to observe her face, not wanting to miss the wonder at what lied on the interior of the house. And, when he opened the door, he saw all the awe, all the amazement that shined from her eyes which moved about, not knowing where to look, wanting to remember it all. It was truly a sight.

"Edward," they heard a soft feminine voice call. Both tore their eyes away from the beauties in which they chose to gaze upon. When Deanna found the source, she began to wonder what caused vampirism to look so good. She had the same pale, straight features as the rest of them. Her originality lied with her heart-shaped face and the caramel-colored waves that looked so soft that Deanna almost began to wonder how to come up with a way to touch it without being, well, weird about it. The most prominent trait was how _soft_ she looked all around. Unlike her "children", she looked more curved, more feminine than the sharp high fashion look that most of her family accomplished. There was something more _classic_ about her, but Deanna tried to not be distracted by this.

"Carlisle, Esme," Edward broke the silence with, causing Deanna to finally realize that there was someone beside Esme. "This is Deanna Walsh."

Neither made a move towards her, no doubt that Edward had warned them of her slight worry about being in a house of vampires. Still, she had enough manners to step forward herself and give them both a handshake that was firm, three seconds long. "Nice to meet you," she said with a smile. Her eyes flickered around the room, final glances before she'd have to be polite and focus more on his family, the reason why she was there after all. "Did you decorate yourself?"

"Esme designed the house, and picked everything in it," Carlisle answered, placing a kiss on his wife's cheek. Deanna's smile grew.

"You're very talented."

Edward gave her hand a squeeze, drawing her attention. He gave her a smirk, taunting her for how much she had dreaded the visit, only to be charmed so quickly. She gave him a roll of the eyes, neither noticing how Esme's face lit up with excitement at her son, so fluently communicating like she and her husband did. It was silent, but the two might as well have just spoken aloud based on what they were exchanging. Clearing her throat, Esme began to lead the two towards the kitchen, only to be accosted by a short haired, pale faced, pixie of a girl, who had never been as close to Deanna as before.

"Deanna!" Alice said, and she smiling as she stopped about a yard away. The first thing Deanna noticed was the color of her eyes an orange-gold color, unlike the topaz gold of her family. How long they'd been that color, she didn't know. She could only conclude one thing: Human blood. Edward had said that blood, human blood or being freshly turned made them red. Knowing Alice wasn't a baby-vamp, or so Deanna liked calling "newborns", she had to place her bet on human blood. If she had killed a human, a body would have dropped, but... but if she had only drank enough...

Deanna's lips began to tremble, her nose burning as she realized what had happened all those nights ago.

Carlisle and Esme had exchanged a staggered look. There was shock in Alice's eyes, too, but Deanna was too pissed to care. She didn't even acknowledge how Edward stiffen at her side. Had she glanced at his face, his expression would have been unable to decipher. He spoke her name, trying to hold onto her hand as she stepped near Alice, who took a step back. The vampire apparently frightened of the human, and for good reason. Deanna was not only the very thing that could make monsters out of them, but the look in her eyes was terrifying. It was the look of someone willing to tear apart anyone that stood in her warpath. The only thing about Alice's predicament was that she was where the path lead one else seemed to know quite what to say or do. Jasper, who stood on the sidelines, partially amused, but more worried as his power didn't seem to be working, or, if it did, Deanna clearly had enough rage to triumph over his power.

"Deanna, I'm so sorry-"

"What the hell did you do!" Deanna hissed.

"Deanna, don't do something you'd regret-" Edward whispered, placing his hands on her shoulder. She tried to shake him off, but she didn't stop until she heard her name.

" _Deano._ "

Deanna's head whipped around, finding _her_ sitting on the kitchen counter, her dark hair braided intricately to the side. Deanna almost didn't recognize her friend, dressed in a pale blue dress with even a dash of makeup on that enhanced beauty that already struck her cold. Lastly, there were her eyes, a few shades darker than Alice's. There was a smile on her face and light in her eyes. Less doom and gloom. When Deanna's shocked eyes met her's, she slipped off the counter and gracefully glided to her dearest friend. And, for the first time since she left, Deanna was hugging Katherine.

"Don't blame her," Katherine said, pulling away. "Turns out, vampire life ain't so bad," she added with a smile. "Sure, you have to munch on some local game, but it's.. it's pretty damn awesome," Katherine laughed, patting Deanna on the back.

"S-so you're with them?" Deanna asked looking to Edward who smiled at her. "And you didn't tell me!?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Carlisle spoke up with a grin playing on his face.

"But we underestimated how scary you can be," Alice piped. Deanna couldn't help but laugh in astounding relief. She felt like crying.

"They're busy forging documents to say I'm adopted, but I won't be able to be around people until I'm ready," Katherine clarified. " _But_ , until then, you're welcome to come here whenever. Or invite me over," she added with a smile and wink. Deanna's smile faltered at the sight. She'd never seen Katherine so playful and confident as she was now. And the way Katherine looked at the Cullens, like they were friends for a lifetime, that made her look like she was walking on sunshine, despite the fact that she glitters in the light. After a few apologies, Deanna was once again at Edward side, only this time, they were in the a living room, seated, just as it would have been in a normal family meets girlfriend scenario.

"So, where's Rosalie and Emmett?" She asked quietly.

"Roselie is a bit... Emmett's trying to win her over," Edward explained quietly. Deanna fought to roll her eyes. If anyone had a right to be angry at meeting the other, it was her. "Don't worry, Jasper and Alice like you," he said, mentioning the couple that was out with Katherine, hunting apparently. "Jasper's more sensitive to this lifestyle. He hunts more than the rest of us. Alice goes with him to make sure he doesn't break down since she has good control- Katherine being the exception," he added. "She was Alice's singer- blood singer," he clarified.

Deanna nodded, remembering their first talk. "Am I anyones, um, _singer_?" she asked.

"No," Edward answered, smiling. "Though Esme is more fond of your scent, it's not unbearable," he added. Deanna was certain that if Esme could blush, she would have. To her surprise, she enjoyed the Cullen's company. Carlisle had more than enough history to share with her, telling her about he once met the The Shunzhi Emperor. Then there was Esme who spoke more about the women's rights movement, which Deanna especially enjoyed. After Alice and Jasper returned, Alice faced off with Deanna in chess, unable to see her future moves. Then Jasper had tried to teach her some self defense moves. Nearing noon, Rosalie and Emmett finally made their appearance. The two walked into the living room- Well, Rosalie remained at the frame that opened it into the hallway.

"DEANO!" Emmett boomed, walking over and taking a seat right beside her as if they were the best of friends. Instead of shying away, Deanna smiled and turned towards him.

"Emmett," she said smirking. She didn't want to appear intimidated by him, but she wasn't one to match the loudness of others- not while she wasn't angry, that is.

"So, my brother says you aren't afraid of vampires," he mentioned, earning a glare from said brother.

"I'm afraid of vampires. Not so much afraid of your family," she corrected. Emmett whistled.

"We're dangerous, you know," he pointed out.

"Maybe it's the sparkling," she joked earning a few laughs. When asked if she wanted to "sparkle", she shook her head. That's when Rosalie spoke up.

"Why are you here?" she blurted out, glaring at Deanna, who sat still, not cowering under Rosalie's sharp glare. Rosalie's heels clicked against the wooden floors as she approached Deanna, who stood up, silently irritated over Rosalie being naturally taller. "If you don't even want to be like us, Why. Are. You. Here?"

"I'm in love with him. Not what he is."

The words struck Rosalie cold, and Deanna knew exactly why because she herself shared many traits Rosalie did. She'd heard Rosalie's tale from Edward, she knew enough to know that they were too sides of the same coin. Rosalie wanted to be human, so did Deanna. Deanna was loyal to a fault, and Rosalie's reaction, her animosity towards a possible threat to her family, it was loyalty. Hell, even Deanna turned as cold as ice when someone hurt or was planning to hurt someone she loved. Alice could testify to that. Rosalie had heard of Deanna's declining of becoming a vampire, but she didn't believe it. People these days were obsessed with youth and beauty more than ever, but Deanna said no. She hadn't believed it, but here Deanna was, staring her down, saying that she _didn't want it_.

"You don't want to be like us?" Rosalie asked quietly, her glare softening into confusion. Deanna, relaxed more, crossing her arms, shaking her head. The two stayed silent, Deanna remaining still as she waited for Rosalie to move. Rosalie remained like a statue for a few more moments, waiting for Deanna to break, to find something in the freckled girl that said that she was lying. After all, it was far easier to let go of someone you hate. She just never did. She just continued to square off the stare until Rosalie cleared her throat, taking a step back, regretting her harshness towards Deanna. She would never admit it though, silently hoping Edward wouldn't mention it. "I guess I misjudged you."

"I guess you did... But I get it, so I'm willing to let it go- this time," She smiled, offering Rosalie a hand to shake. Rosalie cocked up a single eyebrow, surprised by Deanna. "Come on, I don't let things go easily and if you pass this up, I might not offer it again, so take it or leave it," she added, the smile disappearing. Rosalie, once again, not wanting to admit to being impressed, still took her hand.

"I'm not good with people."

"Me neither," a soft smile came again. "We'll be bad with people together."

 _"Well_ ," Alice began, killing the silence that would, no doubt, build with time. "Now that we're all friends, Edward needs to take you home," Alice insisted. Deanna gave her a confused look, which Alice so graciously answered to. "Baseball game tonight. You'll be needing some clothes."

The moment the house, her house, came into view, it had just begun to drizzle. When Edward turned towards the driveway, she noticed the the black car, a weathered Ford, parked in Charlie's driveway. Something came out from under Edward's breath, something unintelligible in a low, harsh voice. Deanna tried not to judge, especially since she, herself, had unresolved anger towards others(more like _other_ ). So, she kept her eyes transfixed on the two men on the porch, trying to stay out of the rain

"What's he here for?" Deanna asked. Edward parked the car in silence, not speaking a single word to her until a few moments of just glaring passed by. It was the first time since she met him, that he ever looked scary. His eyes were dark, his jaw clenched looking stronger than ever, but most of all, he was looking at them the same contempt she looked at her mother with. She knew it, in her heart. He didn't like them. Edward's voice was furiously low, his hardened glare never wavering from the two men. She knew why. He told her everything, after all.

"He came to warn Charlie... About us."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm here," Deanna quickly said. She placed a hand on his cheek. "Let me handle this," she insisted before getting off. She knew he had too much respect for her to not let her do this. She needed her time with Billy. The more that this looked like her choice, the more probable that it was for him to leave her alone. As soon as she was out of the car, Edward too, she greeted Billy. Trying to draw attention away from Edward's black glare that so clearly made Charlie, who was at the door, anxious.

Billy was quick to greet her, Jacob awkwardly waving, but his eyes set on Edward. Jacob didn't seem to bothered by Deanna and Edward, just wary of the pale boy. The person who was bothered was Billy, who quickly sent Jacob to help Charlie fix the television. Edward, though not wanting to leave her side, was forced away to put away the bag of fried fish that Billy brought with him. Since Deanna's mother was offering to help, wanting to interrogate Edward, he would be awhile, long enough for Deanna to have a word with Billy. He remained quiet, for the most part. Deanna grew tired of him beating around the bush, so she just out right addressed what was currently his problem.

"Don't say it," she flat out said.

"Say what?" he asked, not even sounding confused. Her green eyes narrowed on the man.

"You know what," she hissed under her breath. "My business is _my_ business. Don't you dare involve Charlie in this-"

"He has a right to know," Billy said quickly, glancing at his very _human_ friend before returning his eyes to Deanna. "You don't know what he was like before you- He was devastated over Bella and she wasn't even _here_. Do you know what will happen to him if he loses you!" Billy threatened lowly. "He'll lose everything!"

"He won't lose me."

"He won't?" Billy challenged. "You don't know what the Cullens are, Deanna. If you did, you'd know better than that-"

"Edward, the Cullens, they aren't going to do _that_ to me," she promised, glaring at his assumptions. "I don't want it. They don't want it. Like I said, my business is _my_ business. So, before you apologize, I want you to know that I am not above tearing you a new one," she threatened, shaking her head. As much as she was fond of how Billy made Charlie feel, he just made himself a threat to her and the people she loved. "Stay out of my business. Please," she added in a softer voice. "I like you, Billy. You make Charlie happy, but I want to be happy to, so let me just enjoy this while I can. I know it can't last forever," she sighed, glancing towards the kitchen. Edward's saddened eyes connected with hers. _"We both know that..."_ Deanna's eyes lowered. "I'm sorry, Billy."

"Me too... Take care of yourself," he added, returning to that caring uncle look that he usually had.

That was when things switched from probably bad, to worse. Edward returned to her side, her mother soon following her. Deanna swallowed a lump in her throat, and enough pride to not want to lash out at her mother - at least, not in the moment. Margot's eyes were their usual dark shade of blue, but there was something behind them, something _sadder_ than usual and Deanna could see it. Edward could see it. If Charlie wasn't watching the game, he'd see it too. It was a mother's heartbreak. Though Margot wasn't the best mother, there was something in her that couldn't let go of Deanna. It hurt her beyond any pain, even giving birth, when she saw Deanna look at Charlie with bright loving eyes. And now, to see her daughter so close to a boy, a charming boy? It broke her heart once more. It reminded her of so much she had missed. She missed Deanna's first words, her first steps. She'd missed Deanna's first day of school and her first encounter with snow. She missed _everything_ , and that was the thing that she regretted the most. And to see her, with a boy, she knew she'd missed something. She missed seeing Deanna fall in love.

Margot didn't have a chance to advise Deanna on how to get a boy to like her, even though Deanna was apparently capable of it on her own. Margot didn't have the chance to tell Deanna what it was like for her, to share a memory from when she was young. She didn't get a chance to ever tell about her father, something Deanna never wanted to hear about. Most of all, Margot didn't even know her daughter was even interested in anyone. Now? Now, her daughter seemed to already progress into some zone past the awkward hand holding and blushing. Her daughter seemed perfectly comfortable with an arm around her waist.

"Thought you were studying for the SAT," She said quietly, trying to hide the pain in her voice. Deanna almost had sympathy for her mother. In fact, Deanna had sympathy, but she quickly took those feelings, bottled them up, and swallowed them in hopes that it wouldn't come out. Though Edward's family opened her up to become more trusting, she was still Deanna Walsh, and she was still stubborn. She couldn't and wouldn't forgive her mother after just one day with Edward's family. Years of crying, years of pain never just disappeared. Closure didn't exist, but toleration did. Since she was in a good mood, Deanna would at least attempt to tolerate her mother and the way that she felt entitled to Deanna's life despite never really having any involvement in it. In Deanna's eyes, all she was to her mother was a box of her own to pack up and send wherever she wished, whether that was Grandmother's, nuns, or Charlie.

"We were going over the math section today at the school," Edward said, seeing as Deanna didn't speak a word, not trusting herself to say anything besides something ugly. He could tell that Margot's presence was already taking a toll on Deanna. If anger was a plant, it was blooming in her. "I was wondering if you would allow Deanna to come over to my house, to play baseball- we might be late, but my parents are always on call if Deanna's or my phone dies," he added, giving Margot a comforting smile, just knowing that the woman was skeptical of him. He didn't know that Deanna's mother had her young, and he wondered if Deanna herself knew, but he figured that by now she had done the numbers over a few times. Though Deanna held anger, almost hatred, towards Margot, Edward saw that Margot had her flaws, but she did try. Not all that well, but she did try every now and then. He saw memories of Deanna, short flashes in Margot's mind, of when Margot visited Deanna. Those seemed to be the memories that were fonder. Deanna had been kind to her mother for a portion of time.

"Charlie, you okay with this?" Margot asked, calling over her shoulder. Charlie looked back, seeing how Deanna was growing restless. Though he didn't want to let her out late, it was a Saturday, and she hadn't given him a reason not to trust her. So, he shot Deanna a smile and gave her a thumbs up.

"No parties?" he teased.

"I hate parties," Deanna reminded, smiling herself.

The smiles only twisted the blade deeper down her back. How was it, that Charlie, her uncle, was able to get more warm than her own mother? How was it, why was it, that her own daughter didn't seem to love her? Those were the very questions that played Margot's mind. They were the questions that she's been asking since about a decade ago. She could never quite put her finger on it. She was too afraid to admit that she was bad at the very thing that she thought she was so good at. She didn't want to admit that she wasn't a mother to Deanna. She was so scared that she thought admitting it would be making a true.

"Have fun," her mother tried. Deanna, seeing her mother's attempt to make her happy, tried to do something just as pleasant. Yet, all she could do was give a nod and thanks. Deanna wanted to forgive her mother. Well, a part of her did. A part of her wanted to just forget everything that her mother did, just embrace the person that she wanted to look up to. Yet, the part of her that was more logical, the part of her that had more reason and evidence backing it up, that was the part of her that prevented her from forgetting. How could she forget and forgive she was almost certain that it would happen again? She was too afraid. Just like her mother she was too afraid. She was so afraid of being hurt again, and that was probably the most difficult problem she had. It didn't just affect her relationship to her mother. It affected her ability to make friends. It affected her ability to trust. It almost made her stop from loving _him_. She didn't know if she could forgive _that_. She knew most of her problems, even her codependency with Katherine, it all came from the pain her mother caused. How could she forgive that?

When they were outside, when the door shut behind them, he paused. He looked in her eyes gingerly pulling her closer. His hand went to the side of her face while the other was resting on the small of her back. He just looked at her for a moment longer. He knew most "first" romantic moments were intended, usually planned, awkward. However, in the moment, it wasn't planned. It was an awkward either. It felt right. He didn't really know why, why it was that moment tonight any other. He didn't know why it didn't happen the night before why didn't happen later this night. Maybe, maybe it was because she was in pain. Maybe it was because he saw that look in her eyes, the kind that read of so much pain, of so much self loathing suffering, that all he wanted to do to make it all disappear. So, he kept his eyes on hers until he drew close enough that they fell shut naturally. And slowly, almost agonizingly slow, he lowered his lips onto hers for the first time.

Their first kiss was chaste, ending when he pulled away to see her reaction. He could see it, the pain disappearing, not all together, but enough for him to notice. The first kiss was for her. Then, her left hand went behind his neck, the other into his own messy hair, and she pulled him in for their second. Their lips moved in a gentle synchronization, with an ease that he didn't ever imagine he'd have with a human. And when that kiss ended, when Deanna pulled away and rested her head on his chest, his hands moved around her, holding her close. Though the moment, their kiss, had came after her distress, all that mattered was that he held her. All that mattered was that she knew in her heart that he was there for her, even if she was broken.

"Are you sure you want to come? To come and play?" he asked quietly, not wanting her to tire out. She pulled away, forcing a smile, half real-half for show.

"You afraid? Do you think that I'll help the opposing team cheat?" She asked as they walked towards his car.

"No, I know you will," he teased, earning a quiet laugh that was music to his ears. She may not have been elated, or excited, or bubbling with joy like Alice. She just had to be willing to have a chance at that. She just had to be willing to be offered an opportunity to have more than just sadness and anger inside of her. She, in his eyes, just had to open up enough to him, to share some of the burden on her shoulders. That meant letting go of her anger, if only for just a while. Happiness was worth it, even if it didn't last very long. She taught him that much.

They drove as far as they could, through some of the trees, down an off road path, but eventually that came to an end. When she realized they weren't there yet he gave her an apologetic, yet not really sorry, grin.

 _"No."_

"Yes," he chuckled, noticing how she still held his hand even after she said no when they climbed out of the car. He placed a kiss on her lips. He couldn't help but find some clarity as to Jessica's and Mike's disgusting public kisses. He understood why people craved them now. The taste of her lips, it was enough to leave him wanting more. "How about now?" He asked. "Better?"

"Not a chance, but I'm not missing out on this game," she smiled, allowing him to crouch so she could climb onto his back. Once she felt secure enough, he asked if she was ready. Before she even answered, her eyes fixated on his neck. She gave into the impulse and lightly bit onto the icy surface. It was no surprise that it was hard, but she didn't need it to hurt him. She just needed him to feel it.

"Did you just bite me!?" He asked in between laughs.

"How many people can say they bit a vampire?" she laughed. She felt him shake with a quiet laugh, but she patted his shoulder. "Go, slow poke!" She laughed, closing her eyes as he took off running. Her eyes opened, and she realized that it wasn't _so_ bad. In fact, the way her heart was racing, nothing felt even more exciting this day. Everything passing buy, the smell of the forest air and the feel of the cool air running against her cheek... it was liberating. She smiled brightly and threw her head back in laughter before pulling herself closer. She wasn't going to thank him, but he deserved to see her smile, just to know _she_ was wrong about his running. And when their eyes connected, his feet stopped. It took a couple of blinks before she registered that the run had ended, and her feet were back on the ground.

He smiled proudly and released all, but one hand. "You've gotta do that again," she whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. He shook his head with his own smile, leading her beyond a few tall, wet ferns and draping moss, to the edge of an enormous open field in the lap of the Olympic peaks. She'd never been to a baseball field, but she was sure that it was twice the size of any baseball stadium. Her eyes focused on Esme, Emmett, and Rosalie, sitting on a bare outcropping of rock in the distance. Behind them, a hundred yards, give or take, was Jasper and Alice and Katherine, appearing to tossing a ball back and forth. It was a picture that she didn't want to admit. Everyone was smiling, laughing. Even Katherine seemed to be just as happy as Alice and Emmett when they noticed Deanna and Edward.

Esme and Emmett were the first to make their way over, but Deanna's eyes were glued to Rosalie. Instead of being glared at, Rosalie looked conflicted. It wasn't until Deanna offered her a smile and waved her over that Rosalie had risen, gracefully, and strode towards them.

"You picked a miracle worker, Edward?" Esme smiled, placing an arm around Rosalie as the blond offered a half-hearted grin to Deanna. Emmett gave Deanna a proud wink as his wife-fiancee-woman greeted her.

"You should see my food, the fact that it's even edible is a miracle," she joked lamely, earning a laugh from Emmett. She soon knew which one of Edward's family would be a joy to be around most of the time.

"It's amazing that you and Charlie haven't starved," Katherine snorted, hugging Deanna. "I missed you," she sighed wistfully.

"I missed you too," Deanna smiled. "I'm glad to see you actually getting along. Last time you were running from them," She mentioned. Katherine shrugged it off, but smiled at the Cullens. That's when Deanna noticed that she was no longer the only person in Katherine's life. That's when she realized that she couldn't _feel_ Katherine as strongly as she used to. And the strangest part? The strangest part was that she wasn't jealous or bitter over this. She was happy for her.

"I ran away from a family that didn't need me, only to be chased by people who became the family that I needed," she smiled, earning a smile from Esme that was about as warm as the sun.

"Family ends at the field, Katie," Emmett joked. "Esme's on the other team. Don't be a traitor, baby vamp!" Katherine only rolled her eyes and smiled at Deanna, flashing pearly whites.

"You see what I have to deal with now?"

"Yeah."

" _And_ I wouldn't have it any other way, especially now that you're here."

That was the moment that Deanna felt another reason to consider the option of turning. Katherine was happier, brighter even. She wasn't doomed or condemned to damnation as Edward made it sound like it was. Katherine was _free_. She didn't have to worry about disappoint anyone. She didn't have to torment herself with trying to keep her family interested in her. Katherine didn't even seem to need Deanna. She was _stronger_. Katherine had matured. She changed into a better person. Deanna could see it. Katherine was finally getting a chance to live. All it took was her dying.

Katherine's eyes rested on the couple. "I know you guys don't really want this for you," she looked to Deanna. "But it's not really bad. Maybe, I'm not trying to pressure you, but maybe it wouldn't be totally catastrophic if somewhere down the road you'd join us." Esme watched as Edward's eyes filled with the same disdain that they both had earlier. She knew that Deanna had changed Edward's view on what he was, what _they_ were, but she knew her son. She knew that he wanted everything for Deanna. He wanted her to live a happy life that she wanted, and it was clear that Deanna wasn't quite sure what kind of life she wanted for herself anymore.

Clearing her throat, Esme waved over Alice. The girl smiled brightly, leaving her position and had begun running, more so dancing, toward everyone. And when she came to a stop, ending her slight performance, she gave Deanna a hug, embracing her tightly.

"I know I stayed away before, but that's just because you used to smell like Katherine," she explained once she saw Deanna's confusion. "I can't see your future, but I just know that we'll be great friends!"

"I sure hope so," Deanna laughed. She couldn't believe her own words. She was _actually_ making friends.. with vampires...

 _"Come on, guys! It's game time!"_

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 _ **This chapter is 3 times the normal size due to the stunningly detailed reviews of Sephora and ShigureAyameHatoriFanClub**_ _ **AND the heartfelt review of** **GhostlySights**_ ** _! I love your review so much that I wrote extra as my thanks to you all!_**

 ** _Still enjoying this?_**

 ** _1) What do you think of Edward's change of heart? Is it too ooc or does it make sense?_**

 ** _2) So the game has become, what do you expect will happen with James?_**

 ** _3) I know most of you know how different Deanna and Edward are to Bella and Edward, and I always love hearing about that. However, Bella is coming, how soon? Maybe the next chapter depending on how long, but what do you think will happen since she is his singer?_**

 ** _I always love hearing your thoughts about the story, and you don't have to answer any of these questions. Just remember, I update 1-3 times a week. The more detailed the reviews or just more reviews in general, the longer the chapters! Of course just you enjoying the fic is enough for me, but like Deanna, I always want more?_**

 ** _Thank you all! I love writing this fic_**

 ** _~Queen of Idjits_**


	14. Chapter 14

**Avangeline and Grace** \- I'm glad you're well aligned with the books to know that Bella's appearance will not be soon as in time in the story soon, but more so in a few chapters or so, depending on the length of them to get there. However, I will have to make a spoiler that Bella is not Jacob's imprint. On the other hand, she will play a role in the future, but not as the romantic interest of someone else being the reason why she will be. She'll be a force to be reckoned with on her own, but that will not come until later.

 **Dora** \- I'm so happy to hear you're enjoying this! I hope I will not disappoint you in the future. This chapter has a change, and instead of following my original plan, I opted to stray from the path. I hope it makes sense, and I hope you enjoy this!

 **GhostlySights** , **Idris, and** **Sasha Fierce** **-** No worries, Bella will not be a romantic interest of Edward's. However, she will still be his singer. I wasn't fond of how it was in twilight because feel like that's like it was a bit much. Like, it was implied that even Emmett had slip ups with singers, and although I like how some people are singers, I felt like it should have been used more as a catalyst for making Bella more of a target. All it was mainly used for was to get Edward's attention... But Bella's going to be used to show Deanna another side of Edward. An education of sorts!

 **Sephora** \- Trust me, your reviews are needed! Criticism will keep me in check. In addition to that, what you interpret helps me know how to better this fic. As to your "harshness", I'm actually thankful for it. There's actually one part I want to address, and it's your frustration. I may sound crazy, but I like it. Your frustration means that I'm able to evoke the correct emotion from readers, specifically ones about Deanna. I would love to explain more, but I think that you'll understand before this chapter is done. So, hold tight, and I hope this comes across right!

 ** _Thanks to Avangeline, Grace, Dora, Idris, and Sasha Fierce(love the name btw)! For taking the time to review my story, this chapter will have two times the normal amount(these notes not included). SPECIAL thanks to Sephora, who, for the consistently ameliorating reviews, an extra 3K in addition. Once again, making a chapter 9000 words excluding the beginning and ending notes!_**

* * *

Deanna was never one for watching games. The only times she did watch, her eyes never followed where the actual object involved would be. Take basketball, the one game she took kindly to watching, for example. She didn't watch where the ball was. No, instead, her eyes would look to the players, both engaged in the game or not. She would watch the fluidity of their movements, a fierce dance for victory, at times. However, most of the time, she was observing the visage of each player's face. She'd become engrossed in how such a thing as basketball could procure such powerful emotions ranging from elation to fury. To see their hearts pounding, not only from the activity, but from the sheer yearning to claim a short victory. It stunned her. And though she wasn't fond of baseball, but she was curious as to what she'd see on the field, on the faces of the Cullen family, on Edward's face. Though she'd come to understand him, there was still plenty she didn't know. Questions still unanswered. Though his reactions during a baseball game might not read much into the core of his mind, it would at least give her a glimpse further into him.

He was a familiar stranger to her. A foreigner that reminded her of home.

As the clouds began to roll over one another, as the wind blew with the storm, Deanna looked up from where she was. Though it wasn't raining, there was a serenity to the moment. A deep rumble of thunder shook the forest beyond the field, and then crashed westward towards Forks. Deanna's eyes followed the sound, but was quickly drawn away by the feeling of a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes moved to the right, seeing the caramel haired woman that fit so perfectly with Carlisle.

"You okay, dear?" Esme asked, her voice ever soft and melodic. Deanna had to blink a few times for her mind to kick into it's gears. After glancing to the field where Alice and Emmett were stirring up playful teasing with the other team, Deanna offered a smile. It wasn't enthusiastic. In fact, there was something melancholy in the soft curve of her lips and Esme noticed it instantly. Edward hadn't betrayed Deanna, but Esme knew a lost child when she saw one. And Deanna? Though she was capable of standing on her own, the way her legs stood in a T-formation most of the time body curved to preserve a strong stance, there was something saddening in it. A girl her age deserved to stand with slouched shoulders, a bashful smile on her face. Yet, even when she did smile, there was something held back, something reserved about it.

"Shall we?" Deanna offered, motioning towards the field and starting towards it. She made it a few yards away before she looked over her shoulder at Esme, who was watching her through worried eyes. Deanna knew Edward had trouble reading her. She wasn't used to most people looking at her and understanding who she was. Yet, there was something startling in the way Esme looked at her. The sympathy was warm at first before burning Deanna's heart. She didn't want to be a victim. When Esme realized that Deanna was _picking_ up on what Esme was feeling, she quickly moved, but she kept a few feet between herself and Deanna, being careful not to provoke the girl. Though Deanna had Esme's sympathy, she wanted none of it. So, Esme matched her pace, not walking in front or behind her.

"Do they _actually_ like to cheat?" Deanna asked, trying to break through the wall that had risen from Esme's compassion. Esme smile brightly at the girl, and nodded.

"It's alarming," she laughed, a light sound of bells echoing from her vocal cords. "You might find it more entertaining to see their quarrels rather than the game itself! - _Actually_ , I hope you don't, you would think they were raised by a pack of wolves," Esme added with a roll of her golden eyes. Deanna let out a laugh of her own, not as loud as it could be, but still genuinely humorous.

"It's fine. One of the first times Edward and I spoke, he called me a savage - and he was right too!" Deanna laughed, reminiscing in the memory, when she was ever aloof. If Esme wasn't impressed before, she was in this moment. It was clearly written across her face, all the delight in how her son felt _comfortable_ being anything but charming. "My mother would kill me for throwing an apple at him like I had..." A blush dusted her cheeks as Esme laughed.

"Well, I think, in most ways, my children can be like animals themselves- Especially Emmett," she winked. Deanna stole a glance at the massive man who resembled a bear. _Must be the diet,_ she concluded. "As animalistic as they can be, I'll never stop looking at them as my children... I never could get over my mothering instincts — did Edward tell you I had lost a child?" She asked, her smile faltering.

Deanna considered lying, sparing Esme's feelings, her pain of having to remember something, but something in her eyes, that maternal compassion for a girl she barely knew, struck Deanna's heart. Without her sanction, her head moved to nod, eyes never falling from Esme. She needed Esme to know that she wasn't going to give Esme pity. Losing a child was tragic, but she knew that no woman would want to be defined as a tragedy that happened.

"Yes, my first child, also my only child in blood... died just a few days after he was born, the poor tiny thing," she sighed. Even if she could cry, she wouldn't have. Too many tears have been shed in the past. Pain didn't always disappear, but it was easier to bear at times, and, no doubt, Esme had learned to live with it. "It broke my heart — that's why I jumped off the cliff, you know," she admitted. Deanna stayed silent, not knowing what to say. Esme, realizing where the conversation had gone, tried to salvage it, to put it behind them. "It's all in the past..." And those words, _that_ , Deanna could respond to.

"I like to think that when we finally decide to let go of our past, that's the moment that the past let's go of us."

Esme gave her a smile as she slipped a hand around Deanna. Though the girl hadn't realized the impact of her words, Esme felt it nonetheless.

"Edward was the first, you know? He was the first child I've ever had, and I've always thought of him as though he was older than I," she mused. Deanna nodded, a real smile spreading across her face, a glow illuminating her features. "I'm so happy that he's found you, dear." If possible, Deanna's whole demeanor became brighter, effervescent even. The endearment, it was genuine, not even leaving Esme's lips with much effort. "He's been the odd man out for far too long; it's hurt me to see him alone." And then it died.

"I'm sorry then," Deanna whispered, the smile vanishing. She didn't show it, but it was in her voice: Guilt.

"Why are you sorry? You're what he wants. It will work out, somehow," Esme tried, her forehead creased with worry, but the optimism there nonetheless.

"I'm wrong for him..."

"No... Deanna-"

"I'm selfish. I'm inconsiderate," Deanna stated, her jaw clenching. "I won't stay, but I won't go... If I was good for him, I'd want to make him happy, but... but _I'm c_ _hoosing my humanity over him_."

Esme stopped then; A distraught expression coming over her face. Deanna didn't have to look to know that people were staring now. It was too late to take it back. She knew it would be foolish to continue as if she hadn't spoken, so, bravely, she looked unto Esme's face. How she had ruined a game was above her. Prior to then, it the teams had been formed. Edward was far out in left field. He'd been watching them the whole time. Then there was Carlisle, who was staring at her with that same sympathy that infuriated Deanna. In the center of the field was Alice, frowning as she tried to understand the future that she couldn't see because of Deanna. Lastly there was Emmett, who had the decency to begin swinging an aluminum bat as he whistled, acting as if he wasn't listening to his mother talk to his brother's girl.

"Deanna, you're just a girl," Esme sighed, resting her hands on Deanna's shoulders. "Humanity is a precious thing, and I know what you think you want, but in the end when there is nothing left, there will be only regret if you let go of what really matters." Deanna remained silent, her eyes falling to the ground as Esme spoke. The heavy weight of the words was enough to make an impact. A part of her wanted to let her mind be changed, but the rigidness in it was more fortified than the force of Esme's words. So, when Esme realized that Deanna wasn't going to have a change of heart so quickly, she cleared her voice and called out to the family, who turned away, concern written on their faces.

Alice was frowning, trying to find her footing in the future that she couldn't see. She couldn't see Deanna's decision, and with her unable to see it, Edward couldn't either. His face was written in pain, and Esme could see it as clear as day how her son so desperately wanted to be happy, but wouldn't let himself. He'd been punishing himself for years, and he refused to see it. He refused to see that there was a good life in their afterlife. Esme had to wonder if he would change his mind in time. His interest in Deanna wasn't predicted. It came once in a century, a one in a lifetime love. And after Deanna left, how long would he be ridden with regret? It made Esme want to cringe...

Aside from Alice was Jasper, whose hardened expression stared unto the human girl. It was no secret that he didn't like being a vampire. His history was written in the bloodshed, the carnage, he caused, and not all that far away from the present. Then there was Emmett, who didn't hold the same feelings as Jasper. Though the bloodlust did enough damage to them all, Emmett loved his life. Katherine was the same, having no problem with the idea of Deanna becoming one of them. Lastly there was Rosalie, and she looked just as torn as Edward. Esme knew where Rosalie stood on the matter of vampirism, but what she was unclear on was how Deanna's choice would affect her brother. Rosalie, though she didn't show it, was perhaps the most fiercely loyal to her family. She loved Edward, and she would do almost anything to keep him happy, especially after so many years as lonely as he was. However, to ask her to watch as a girl, who didn't want to become a vampire, be persuaded to give up her life for theirs was something she couldn't stomach.

"All right," Esme called to the rest of her family. "Batter up."

Alice's stance changed instantly as the rest of her family moved about. Her stance became birdlike, standing on her toes for a moment before lowering as she began an intimidating windup. She gripped the ball in both hands resting at her hips. As quick as lightning, her right hand was in front of her, the ball vanishing. Deanna tried to focus on the game, but Esme's voice was echoing in her head. Whether it was a visible throw or not, all Deanna saw was when Jasper smiled, procuring the ball from behind his hands, having caught the baseball with ease. At a human speed, Jasper threw it back to Alice, who smiled back at him, forgetting the rift that had came over the field.

Deanna remembered in that moment that, although Jasper and Alice were apart of the family, they were fairly new. They had been by themselves before then. It was clear in the way they moved. It was similar to how Deanna knew she and Edward were at times. Deanna could easily see how Jasper and Alice fell into a state of brief existence where the world around them could fall apart, but all that they needed was each other. Almost as quickly as he tossed it back to her, it was gone from her hand once more, but this time, a loud crack sounded through the air as Emmett's bat struck the ball. The sound itself was so loud that it echoed off the mountains. The need of a thunderstorm became apparent by the time the blur that was Emmett was passing the first base. Deanna's eyes stared at him, but not with intrigue. She was staring at what she would be able to do if she turned. It was a reminder of the a painful decision that she would have to make. She couldn't choose what she wanted before something she wanted almost as much. So, halfheartedly, she watched as Emmett was a blur around the bases, Carlisle shadowing him. Her stomach twisted. Half of her wanted to be able to feel that rush, to be capable of such things, but the other half? The other half knew that something as amazing as what they were didn't come without a price, a hefty one at that.

"Out!" Esme shouted in a ringing voice as Edward emerged from the fringe of the trees, the baseball in his right hand that soon vanished, a proud smile on his face. The game went on, and when Carlisle ran into the ball, racing Jasper to first base. When they collided, the sound was like the crash of two massive falling boulders. The other reason why they had to wait for a storm. All of it sounded like thunder and lightning.

The score constantly changed as the game continued. Deanna watched from the sidelines, slowly become more engrossed, but it was with effort. She specifically tried to focus on the ballplayers as their turns came and passed by. No matter how fun it must have been, Edward would always spare her a glance. He hadn't intended for such a heavy subject to spread from being theirs to worry about to something his family was. In the end, he volunteered to take her back to the house, but just as he made his way over, Deanna already standing, willing to let him decide for her just this once, Alice let out a gasp.

Edward stopped dead in his tracks, his body twisting painfully as the ball fell from Alice's dainty hands.

Edward's head snapped to look at her. Their eyes met and something flowed between them in an instant. Deanna didn't see it clearly, but whatever it was was alarming. Instantly Edward was at her side before the others could ask Alice what was wrong. Deanna's face contorted with confusion as his arms slipped around her, but not in a gentle manner. It was a quick movement that had her against him, shielding her from wherever his eyes were looking for.

"Alice?" Katherine called as she approached Edward and Deanna. Whatever had happened was clearly about Deanna, and though Katherine's heart opened up for the Cullens, most of her existence was defined by the very girl who kept her alive until her death.

" _I didn't see - I couldn't tell_ ," Alice whispered, a horrified expression marring her face. It was a blurred movement that her family had gathered near Deanna, whose eyes were darting about, trying to make sense of what was happening. Everyone's smile was gone, whatever was being exchanged being so grave as to make even Emmett look as hardened as Jasper.

"What is it, Alice?" Carlisle asked looking more towards Edward than the person he was addressing.

"Th-they are traveling much quicker than I originally though," she whispered too low for Deanna to hear. Her orange eyes blinked five times as she was pulled from her vision, those eyes beginning to focus on the human among them. "I-I was wrong," she murmured, unsure as if it were more of a suspicion than a fact before the actual thought began to fester.

"What changed?" Jasper asked as he leaned over her, his posture almost as protective as Edward's was to Deanna, who was squirming lightly, uncomfortable with the building tensions that was growing in addition to being constricted by his grip.

"They heard us playing, and it changed their path," she said, contrite, as if she felt responsible for whatever had frightened her. Seven pairs of quick eyes flashed to Deanna's reddening face freckles becoming the less noticeable feature as her eyes began to be lit by paranoia.

"How soon will they be here?" Carlisle said, turning sharply toward Edward.

"Less than ten minutes. They're running - they want to play," Edward answered quietly, not wanting to spook the girl who was pushing away from him.

"Can you make it?" Carlisle asked him, his eyes flicking toward Deanna again.

"No. I won't get far enough... They'll catch her scent and start hunting."

"How many?" Emmett asked.

"Three," she answered tersely.

"Three!" he scoffed. "Let them come." The steel bands of muscle flexed along his massive arms. For a split second that seemed much longer than it really was, Carlisle deliberated. Only Emmett seemed unperturbed; the rest stared at Carlisle's face with anxious eyes.

"Let's just continue the game," Carlisle finally decided. His voice was cool and level. "Alice said they were simply curious."

Their words had been said too fast for Deanna to process as quickly as the others, whatever was unsaid was slowly making it's way through her head in a few seconds after Carlisle decided to try to remain inauspicious. However, at the end of his decision Rosalie was the one to speak up- more so shouting. Her blond hair was tangling in the wind, a fury of gold, and her eyes were sharp, burning into her brother's eyes which glared just as furiously as she was. A silent battle between the two before she decided to break and voice her very thoughts.

"Can we stop treating her as if she isn't even here!" Rosalie hissed. Deanna, having been about to open her own mouth, quickly shut it. Her green eyes focused on Rosalie, a wistful gratitude for the once hateful girl. Rosalie noticed this look and gave an affirming nod. Though she wasn't fond of the idea that a human knew about her family, Deanna reminded her of who she once was. Sure, more fiery, and, surely, less feminine, but Deanna was other side of the same coin. Edward, though hearing Deanna demand to know what was going on, ignored her.

"Rose-"

"No! I want to know!" Deanna snapped, her eyes leaving Edward. It was then did it become apparent that what they had, the love they shared, wasn't some fairy-tale. Edward, as far as he had come to care for Deanna, to allow her the freedom that she so desperately clung to, had the audacity to deny her. He looked her in the eyes and tried to decide for her and she was having none of it.

"Take your hair down," Edward said in a low, even voice.

"Not until you tell me what's going on," Deanna said defiantly, obviously infuriated with his first denial. When his lips stayed pressed together, she looked to Rosalie. "Tell me."

Rosalie hesitated. It was clear that she was the odd one out. Esme had so clearly favored Edward, Alice and Jasper as well. Though Emmett loved her, that enough was as clear as day, he still loved his family enough to not betray them by speaking up for Deanna. Rosalie, on the other hand, was the opposite. She loved her family. She loved them with all of her existence, and that had caused a guard to come up. She hadn't liked Deanna. She didn't want to like Deanna. However, the moment Edward invited her into the family, the moment Rosalie saw that this girl wasn't some helpless mortal infatuated with a life of eternal beauty and youth, was the moment Rosalie decided that she didn't have to agree with her family to show that she loved them. Forcing a girl into the dark, a girl who so clearly didn't deserve to be seen as a helpless doe-eyed girl, was something Rosalie also wouldn't have.

"Nomadic vampires," she answered. "Three of them are headed this way, and they're... they are the ones that left a trail of bodies towards this region."

Deanna's eyes snapped toward's Edward, her hands quickly undoing a braid, but not out of obedience. With narrowed eyes, glaring into Edward's guilty stricken golds, she chose that her life wasn't worth giving up to spite him. With her hair down, she pushed her arms against Edward, who let go of her willingly, hurt by the lack of trust that had accumulated into a wall in under a manner of seconds. She shook her head, and a single word came out of her mouth.

 _"No."_

"No?" Edward repeated.

"She can't stay here!" Rosalie argued, picking up on how Deanna's heart began to race. Deanna didn't want to be there when the vampires came.

"If we run, they'll follow. They're _hungry_! She could _die._ "

 _"_ If she stays _she'll definitely die!"_

"Rose," Emmett tried, calming her down. "It's not your decision..."

"It's not his either!" Deanna shouted, finally speaking up, regaining her footing in who she was once more. Eyes fell on her, some with pity and others with worry. Her greens moved to Edwards, a snarl pulling onto her lips. "You said it yourself!" She argued. "You said most vampires don't have the same control that your family does! Get. Me. Out!" She demanded. The seconds ticked by, but Edward's head shook all the same. And just like that, Deanna's world shattered.

"Start the game back."

"Edward!" Rosalie growled, but Emmett pulled her back.

"They're too close now..."

The game started once more, but no one was smiling. Alice didn't throw a fast ball, Emmett let her strike him out. Katherine tried to look normal, as did Jasper, Carlisle, and Esme. Rosalie was the only one up stood her ground and refused. She kept near Deanna. Though she wasn't willing to die for the girl, she knew it wouldn't come to that. However, she wasn't going to let Deanna have what they both wanted ripped away from her. They weren't friends, but there was a mutual respect between the two. One that Edward and Deanna no longer had. Even though Edward tried, being gentle, whispering apology after apology, she turned her head. She refused him each time.

"Deanna-"

" _No._ "

"Deanna-"

"I said no!" She hissed, trying to remain quiet, looking over her shoulder as her heart continued to pound loud enough to reach her ears. The sound of a bat hitting a ball sounded, but not as loud as before. No one dared to hit harder than a bunt.

"I'm trying to protect you," Edward pleaded, refusing to let her go. Though she was in his grasp, she was far from him. "I'm sorry, Deanna," he muttered fiercely. "It was stupid, irresponsible, to expose you like this. _I'm so sorry._ " Her cold eyes, almost the same coldness that she looked at her mother with, rested on him. Not only could he see his own pain, his own guilt reflecting in them, but he saw the pain in her eyes. _Her_ pain.

"Shut up," she said lowly, eyes beginning to water. Quickly she tried blinking, not wanting to smell of tears and attract attention.

"Please don't be mad at me trying to protect you," he begged, trying to pull her close, to hold her close to where his cold heart would have been beating heavily for her, but her elbow shot out, stopping him. He was too gentle to force her.

"I'm not mad at you trying to _protect_ me," she confessed, her eyes piercing into his. "I'm mad at you for not trusting me enough to make my own _damn_ decisions! I'm mad because you _deliberately_ chose to dictate _my_ life. You took control of what was mine! What makes it _worse_ is that you know what freewill means to me, and you chose to deny me such! I would never choose to betray you like you just did me! I wouldn't hurt you like that-"

"But you will!" Edward shouted, unable to stop himself. The anger in his eyes vanished as he finally came to terms with the side of him that didn't want to let go. "You're going to leave me one day, and you have _no_ idea how much it kills me to think of the day when I'll have to go on without you... So excuse me for wanting to put off the inevitable. Excuse me for knowing that you'll die one day, and for not wanting to give up what little time we already have sooner," he scowled, letting go of everything that he was trying to hold back for so long.

"You said-"

"I know what I said," he glared, speaking lowly. "I know that I don't want to let you go... And I know that I don't have it in me to take away your soul."

"We've been over this," she argued, half-heartedly as the anger began to die out, and the regret beginning to rise. It was clear that their fight was in vain. She knew that no matter how stubborn she was, no matter how angry she was at not having a choice, Edward was trying his best to keep her wishes. To keep her human. He was the best of her. He chose what she wanted over what he did. Even when she was angry at him, she couldn't help but love him.

"I know," he sighed, resting his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry."

"As am I," she muttered, placing a kiss on his lips. She looked into his eyes, willing a crooked smile on her face. "To be honest, I don't know what I want anymore," she admitted. "Maybe you'll change my mind."

"Maybe you will do the same to me," he smiled. "I love you."

"I know."

Before they could continue, Deanna heard Edward's breath stop. Quickly, his grip once tightened once more, moving Deanna somewhat behind him. He took a half step, angling himself between her and what was coming.. His eyes zeroed in on right field. The rest of the Cullens turned in the same direction. That's when Deanna saw _Them._

They emerged one by one from the forest edge, ranging a dozen meters apart, a trifecta. Their movements seemed practiced, yet effortless all the same. Years of travelling, years proving their ranks. Their motions were magnetic. Without speaking the first male that came onto the field fell back immediately, allowing the other male to take his place, what seemed to be his rightful place, the front. It was clear that if there was authority in their group, this would be the keeper. He was a dark-haired man whose posture was straight, yet lacking the pristine that the Cullens had. To his right was a woman. Her main trait was the fiery curls that were crackling in the wind, flames dancing in their spring-storm.

Quickly, they closed ranks, their unit fortifying as they approached the larger coven, treading cautiously toward the Cullen family, showing a polite amount of respect. Though they didn't know of Jasper's prior history involved with vampire combat, or that Carlisle was once apart of the most feared coven in vampiric history, they could see that, numerically, they were at a disadvantage. Three to seven didn't spell good odds. And, as they drew near, Deanna could better contrast how far they were from the Cullens. With their walk, they appeared catlike, almost naturally shifting their legs, stretching between a crouch and a running position. Though they dressed as normal hitchhikers in their jeans and casual button-down shirts in heavy, weatherproof fabrics. The clothes were that were frayed did nothing to distract from their bare, white feet, which were found planting weight on their toes. It was clear when their sharp eyes cautiously took in the more polished, pristine stance of Carlisle, who, shadowed by Emmett and Jasper, their strongest, moved forward to meet their unintentional threat. Without any vocalization, no lips moving to show this, the six relaxed as if it were a casual meeting. Deanna was thankful for this.

The leader of the nomads, in all his skin olive-toned beneath a faded violet suit, his hair a messy black that reminded Deanna of Katherine. He was of a medium build, hard-muscled, not quite to the point of Emmett's brutish mass, but still quite muscular. He was the first to cast an easy smile, unveiling a picturesque vision of gleaming white teeth. The woman and man forced a their own smiles, but the woman's was a cheshire grin that was wilder, her eyes shifting instantaneously between the men facing her, and the loose grouping across the field, specifically Rosalie and Edward, who both were somewhat hiding a shorter person who was hidden by tangling waves of brown that rippled like a river in the slight breeze. She was a lion among them, but the man to the leader's left wasn't much different. He practically hovered inconspiciously behind them. Deanna could barely make out the short light brown hair and regular feature of his nondescript face.

If vampirism was supposed to make one more attractive, Deanna had to wonder what this man looked like before. His eyes, settled on Emmett, clearly sizing up the brawn of the Cullen clan. He seemed the most vigilant. Yet what was the most startling was the familiar shade of red that Katherine once bore. It was the same color of their diet, no doubt. The air was thick, tense, but nonetheless, the dark-haired man, still being sure to be smiling, stepped toward Carlisle.

"We thought we heard a game," he mused in a nonchalant voice with the slightest hint of a French Accent. "I'm Laurent, these are Victoria and James." He gestured to the vampires on either side of him.

"I'm Carlisle. This is my family, Emmett and Jasper, Rosalie, Esme and Alice, Edward and Deanna." Edward held Deanna closer at the mention of her name. Though it would be more suspicious to not name one out of the eight of them, no one could deny the slight breath being held at the mention of her. Thankfully Laurent hadn't seemed to notice, and neither had his friends, seeing as their eyes didn't waver from Carlisle.

"Do you have room for a few more players?" Laurent asked convivially. Carlisle, ever the charming, matched Laurent's welcoming tone.

"Actually, we were just finishing up. But we'd certainly be interested another time. Are you staying long?" He asked, remaining casual.

"We're headed north, in fact, but we were curious to see who was in the neighborhood. We haven't run into any company in a long time."

"No, this region is usually empty except for us and the occasional visitor, like yourselves," Carlisle said, mentioning how they weren't nomadic. No doubt that Jasper was partially responsible for the calm air. Though Deanna couldn't feel his gift, Edward's soothing circles on her back did enough to lower her heart rate.

"What's your hunting range?" Laurent casually inquired. Deanna tried to keep her heart calmed at the mention of hunting. It was then Katherine, who moved farther from Deanna, spoke up, dragging the attention towards her, her reddish-eyes causing some confusion to come upon the three nomads' faces.

"The Olympic Range here, up and down the Coast Ranges every few weeks," she answered with a coy smile. Though Katherine was never much of a seductress, in that moment Deanna had no doubt that she was capable of it, even in vampire standards. "We live nearby. It's a permanent residence," she added with emphasis. "There's another permanent settlement like ours up near Denali. I'd steer clear of there though. They're territorial," she added. It was a lie, but it did make her more of a trusting figure, to warn strangers of a danger, though it didn't truly exist. Still, Laurent rocked back on his heels slightly, perturbed.

"Permanent? How do you manage that?" Genuine curiosity ringing in his smooth voice.

"Why don't you come back to our home with us and we can talk comfortably?" Carlisle invited. He too had moved towards Katherine. "It's a rather long story."

James and Victoria shared a blunt look of confusion at the mention of the word "home" as if it were some foreign word that they couldn't comprehend. Laurent contrasted with a controlled expression of ease. It was no doubt that he was older, or at least the most civil of the three.

"That sounds very interesting, and welcome. We've been on the hunt all the way down from Ontario, and we haven't had the chance to clean up in a while."

The three, Laurent especially, looked at his clothes before scanning the likes of Carlisle. It was then did he seem to recognize the clear cut differences between them and the Cullens. However, he didn't seem to take any offense, as he laughed jocosely and looked to his companions with a smile.

"Please don't take offense, but we'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from hunting in this immediate area. We have to stay inconspicuous, you understand," Carlisle added, noticing the darkening in their eyes. The darkness around their eyes, even Deanna could recognize the lack of a feeding they had. She'd remained quiet, feeling Edward subtly move them farther and farther from what was to come.

"Of course We certainly won't encroach on your territory. We just ate outside of Seattle, anyway," he laughed. Flashes of Charlie talking about some psycho leaving bodies drained in Seattle flashed through Deanna's mind. In honesty, she did worry it was Katherine at the time, but after seeing her friend, she knew that wasn't the case. However, it was hard not to suspect their kind as the culprits. She, in this moment, just wished she was wrong.

"We'll show you the way if you'd like to run with us - Emmett, Rosalie, go with Edward and Deanna to get the Jeep," he casually added. Deanna expected it to happen. When a gust of wind came. She cringed and leaned into Edward, expecting chaos to erupt instantaneously. However when she opened her eyes, she found his hands securing Rosalie's jacket on her. Her eyes flickered to James and Victoria, who hadn't noticed her. In that moment, she was thankful for not having such a powerful scent. She would have let out a sigh if she wasn't scared of her scent to catch the wind in her exhale.

"Come on," Edward whispered quietly. She slid her arms around his neck, knowing his back would draw too much attention to climb onto. When he hugged her close, she felt her legs leave the ground. This time, she felt the wind, but she didn't dare open her eyes to look as the trees passed by. The trouble had came to pass, and though they had been fighting before, all Deanna could do was cling tightly to him, breathing in his comforting scent of vanilla and the faint smell of dirt and grass from playing the game. She was a strong girl, but the fear of losing everything was almost too much. However, that wasn't what made salty tears roll down her cheeks. It was the relief of not losing it all.

When they reached the Jeep in an impossibly short time, and Edward set her gently on the ground. His hands instantly went to the sides of her face, placing an almost bruising kiss on her lips. Pulling away, he quickly opened the door and was quick to almost slam it, just as the others caught up with them. Deanna quickly wiped her tears off her face, seeing Emmett and Rosalie follow Edward's suit and slid into the car. Emmett, the playful boy she saw earlier, offered a pitiful smile, trying to calm her heavy heart, but it was Rosalie who set a hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay. We got you," she comforted as the engine roared to life and began to swerve backward, spinning around to face the winding road. Deanna took in a deep breath, closing her eyes. She needed a moment to collect herself, and she didn't need to see the jeep recklessly turning. She stifled her tears, steadied her breath, and opened her eyes when she was ready. By the time she opened her eyes, they had hit the main road. Edward's speed increased, and the farther they drove from where they once were, the easier Deanna could breath. When Edward saw that she was calmed, he placed a hand over hers.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, as if his siblings couldn't hear him.

"It's fine," Deanna tried, her voice coming out weaker than she intended. "You were right," she whispered with a breathy laugh. "I hope you know that will most likely be the only time you hear me say that," she added with a slight laugh, still drained in all that she felt. It felt like the worst had passed, and that was all that mattered.

"Burn," she heard Emmett mutter, which caused a slight smile to turn into a much more full grin.

"What happens when we leave her?" Rosalie asked, changing the subject, not forgetting about what had just happened. Edward's expression sobered up, as he looked to his sister.

"You two will go home. I'm not leaving her alone," he answered. Though Deanna would usually protest at this, she was sure that he wasn't dictating her decision. It was clear that she didn't want him to go based on the way she tightened her hold on his hand at the mention of leaving her. "I'm not leaving you," he said when they began to approach her home. She nodded as she reached towards the door, knowing that she was going to have to go in alone for appearances sake. She was almost out of the car when she turned back and latched onto his collar, pulling him towards her, kissing him roughly. There was so many shared kisses between them, but this was the one she needed most. Pulling away from him, she rested her forehead against his.

"Twenty minutes," she whispered before going inside.

When she was confronted by her mother and Charlie, the lie rolled off her tongue with an alarming ease. It was mildly numbing on how they would never know of what happened, what could have happened. Still, even with that stricken realization, she smiled and shrugged off her puffy eyes as Emmett getting dirt in her eyes during the game. Charlie smiled at her, expecting that all she told him was true. What he saw was his daughter was finally getting to have normal teenage fun. What Margot saw was that her daughter was happy, and that alone was better than her daughter being mad. Neither saw. Neither knew. Neither questioned why she'd showered and gone to bed early for a Saturday. Not that they needed to know why. She knew and that was all that she needed at the end of the day.

When she slipped under the covers of her bed, she felt her bed shift. Rolling over, she found herself face to face with Edward. Instantly she felt more comforted by him. She wiggled towards him, making sure that a warm blanket was between them. When she had, he moved to lay on his back, knowing full well her favorite place to fall asleep. She gave a gentle smile as she laid her head on his chest, feeling his long fingers begin to run through her hair, examining each strand and shade that made up the array of warm colors.

"Emmett and Rosalie left?" She asked quietly.

"They're going to make sure that _they_ don't come into Forks," he answered just as quietly as she.

A new silence erupted between them, but neither rushed to fill it. Deanna just savored the feeling of him so close, the security of it. The scare she just endured, all it's possible outcomes played in her head over and over again, and she couldn't help but discover something further about herself. She was afraid. In the whole ordeal, from the moment the three nomads stepped onto the field was the moment Deanna realized that she wasn't scared of losing her humanity. No. She was scared of dying. She was scared of being ripped away from the life she built. Before, she was smart, practical. She knew that in the end, the darkness would overcome her, that all the frail things she'd come to built would mean little to those outside of herself. She was terrified that in the end, that there would be no bright light. She was terrified of giving into the night because in the dark, she would feel more alone than ever. She'd always known that.

However, that was before she knew of another option.

And now she had _options_.

She didn't have to give into the darkness. She didn't have to leave behind a world and disappear into the night because she simply ran out of time. She didn't have to say goodbye to him.

She could stay.

Edward had known that his method of thinking wasn't always right. He knew that vampirism wasn't goodness. He knew that what he was didn't scare Deanna. He knew it was _becoming_ what he was that scared her. Lastly, he new that he'd been wrong. He _did_ have a soul. He loved, he cared, he _felt_ more than he'd ever even comprehend he could and at such a high propulsion did he feel everything. However, that didn't make it right. Soul or not, Deanna would have to give up what was most important to her. She would have to give up everything, and for what? To become like him? To keep him company for an eternity? Yet, as that thought crossed through his mind, he realized that as much as her becoming like him bothered him, it should have bothered him more. Just like they had said earlier. They were changing each other.

"I'm afraid," she murmured tiredly, feeling her eyes close.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he whispered, tracing circles on her back.

"Not of you," she sighed, craning her neck upwards, looking him in the eyes. "I know it wasn't supposed to happen, and I wouldn't want to ever face three thirsty vampires again, but in those moments, I realized something," she confessed. "I was so scared of being all alone again... and I never want that again."

"Deanna," he sighed, trying to move away from her. Her fingers curled into his shirt, gripping it tightly in her fist. "You don't know what you're asking."

"I do," she said, louder than she intended. She propped herself up on her elbows. "I know what becoming like you will do to me, and I'm afraid of that... But I'm more afraid of losing you."

"You'll be a monster-"

"Bullshit."

"You'll want one thing-"

"Stop," she snapped, frowning heavily. "Stop _hiding_ behind everything else and just admit that you're scared of letting yourself be happy!" She hit his chest with all she could. "You're lying to me! You're lying to yourself!" She whisper yelled as she continued to smack his chest until she felt his cold hands hold her wrists in place. Her green eyes snapped to attention. "Why won't you let yourself be happy?" she asked tiredly, staring into the golden eyes that never seemed to reach said emotion.

"I don't deserve it," he answered simply. His voice was even, louder than a whisper, but lower than a normal voice. Had Charlie been passing by, he would have had to whisper, but Edward was listening carefully. "I told you what I used to be..." Flashes of him explaining when he had been on normal blood came through her brain, but she shook those thoughts away. She wasn't going to forget that. She wasn't going to act like he was perfect, unable of doing bad. However, she wasn't going to let his past define him. "I can never undo what I've done..."

"Exactly," Deanna sighed frustratingly. "I've realized how wrong I've been. I've never done what you have, but even if I had, would you still love me?" She asked.

"You would have had reason-"

"As did you. I may not love what you do, but I _do_ love you," she vowed. "All I'm asking is that you let me love you. I'm not asking you to go on when I die. I'm telling you that I don't want to be alone anymore. I'm telling you that though I don't want to give up being human, I want you more. I'm telling you that I made my decision. I don't love many people. I don't love Mike. I don't love Eric. I love you. I love you, not because of you being a vampire, but because you're you. I'd love you regardless of what you were and if we had a chance to be together for as long as possible, I'd choose that. It just so happens that as long as possible is more than I anticipated, but I don't care! This is what I want," she finished, pleading him to understand her. She meant it. Every single word. She wasn't going to lie. She wasn't going to say that she wanted to be a vampire because she didn't. However she also didn't want to lose him, and that desire outweighed her stubborn choice to be human. "I'm not going to be giving up everything, you know," she added. "If I want a family, you know we could adopt."

"It won't be yours."

"Like that'll stop you from loving it," she retorted. He couldn't help but smile softly at that. "We both know family doesn't end with blood."

"You won't be able to be a psychologist."

"That's always been a dream of mine, but some dreams mean more than others."

"I'm not ready for this," Edward sighed, running a hand through his hair. Deanna gave him a smile, a genuine smile.

"It doesn't have to be soon," she promised, finally laying her head back onto his chest. "We'll wait until you're ready... Until I'm ready... When we both are, that's when we'll do it."

"What if I'm never ready for it?"

"Then I guess you'll have to watch as I shrivel up like a raisin in the sun. Then you'll have to let me go, knowing full well that you shattered what I wanted most," she answered bluntly. "But you wouldn't do that," she continued with a smile. "You're too good for that," she added. Edward chuckled at her. Only she seemed to be able to be in danger during the day, but, by night, she'd be ready to argue and sleep as if it hadn't happened. But that's what love was. Love wasn't agreeing with each other. Love wasn't ignoring what the other wanted. Love wasn't meant to be easy. Love was meant to be a fight. Love was meant to know each other, and to know that that although they were a "we" they were also an "I". Love was compromise. Love was hearing what the other had to say, and the rest of the world would become background noise.

"Deanna," he called softly after some time of being awake in silence. When he heard only her breath he knew she was asleep, but he professed his love for her nonetheless.

Though he didn't want to turn her, she was going to give up her life, not for vampirism, but for him. And though he couldn't understand giving up ones life to become a monster, he could understand giving up ones life in the name of love. And as she slept, he wondered what he would want if the roles were reversed. And it was then did he truly understand what she meant. He wanted forever with her. He didn't want to give her up, and if there were any other way for her to stay, then he would take it in a heartbeat. He'd become human for her. He'd give up his family instantly because he'd know that they had each other. They had a reason to stay alive. Yet, without Deanna, he didn't want to live. He couldn't.

She was willing to sacrifice for him.

He was now willing to do the same.

For her. For him. For each other. They knew what they wanted. Correction. They knew what they wanted most. The knew what meant most: Each other.

That was the first night, the first night that they knew exactly how much the other loved them. And, despite everything that had happened- or that had almost happened, both of them were at ease. Peace came with a decision, and that decision came with choosing each other. And while Deanna slept, Edward made sure to cherish each second. He didn't know when he'd do it. He knew that it wasn't going to be soon if he had a say, and he knew she wasn't ready for it. However, there was no harm in engraving her human days into his mind. And while he did that, Deanna slept soundlessly, dreaming of the future, years later, where they'd be somewhere far, staring into the night, looking upon the darkness that they denied their company to.

And when the night died out, when the day returned, Margot came to her daughter's bed, where Deanna, then at the time, was lying alone. Edward had known what was coming. He heard Charlie be woken in the middle of the night for. And though he could have woken her, prepared her, he wanted her to sleep before the morning came with more bad news. One problem died that night, yet the day rose with another.

" _Deanna... Deanna wake up..._ " The girl groaned as her right hand held tightly to a soft pillow. When Deanna felt the softness to it, her eyes opened, disappointment filling her greens. When she heard her mother calling she sat up, groggily rubbing her eyes. Margot waited for her daughter to become more conscious before she bared the bad news. Deanna hadn't fully become awake until she heard the sound of something shattering downstairs, which caused her eyes to snap open, wide and alert.

"What happened?"

"Deanna," her mother's voice was sorrowful, heavy and deep, staring into her daughter's eyes.

"What is it?" Deanna asked, already standing, moving towards the door to check on her father. Margot was too slow to answer, and when Deanna heard another break, she broke into a run downstairs to see Charlie, in tears, try to gather a broken plate and glass that he'd dropped in the kitchen.

"I-I tried to..." Charlie couldn't even finish as he looked brokenly at the broken glass on the floor. Deanna instantly fell to her knees, picking up the pieces and throwing them away before moving towards him.

"What happened?" She asked quietly, gentler than when she asked her mother. And, with tear filled, red eyes, Charlie opened his mouth. His voice was shallow, trying to salvage what little strength he had left after he heard of what happened. Looking into the concerned filled eyes of his daughter in bond, he began to answer. His words couldn't come out coherent enough for Deanna to decipher. It wasn't until Margot came downstairs was Deanna answered.

"Your aunt, Renee, was in an accident... She didn't make it."

* * *

 ** _Still enjoying this?_**

 ** _1) James didn't attack Deanna. Sorry, but I felt like if I did, it would be too much like Twilight, so I changed my mind and did something else. However, his role in this story is not completely gone just yet. This isn't the last you'll see of him. But, I still have to ask what you think of the baseball game?_**

 ** _2) What do you think of Rosalie's relationship to Deanna? And what do you think of Deanna and Edwards(I always wonder...)?_**

 ** _3) With what just happened, how do you think their death will affect the story?_**

 ** _I always love hearing your thoughts about the story, so if you have time to spare... Just remember, I update 1-3 times a week. The more detailed the reviews or just more reviews in general, the longer the chapters! Of course just you enjoying the fic is enough for me, but like Deanna, I always want more._**

 ** _Thank you all! I love writing this fic and you guys make it all worth it!_**

 ** _~Queen of Idjits_**

 ** _Thank you all again_**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks to Sasha Fierce** , **TheGryffinclawDemigod,** **Phoebe, Joss,** **Sara,** **Calista, S** **issel,** **LegandsOfTime,** **Lelleg** **, and Cassandra.**

 **TheElementalPanda** \- Thank you so much for review, I take so much pride in gaining an emotional reaction from readers! I hope I will not disappoint you

 **Ophelia and Ivory -** I don't think the events of New Moon will happen like the way they did with Bella. Something in the plot will draw in more vampires causing the wolves to turn, so that will, for sure, happen. Deanna's blood doesn't smell appetizing to most. It's not a mouthwatering scent, more like a favorite lotion or candle scent. Not one to make you hungry, but more to just pleasantly smell. Jasper's control around her, before, was difficult due to Katherine's appeal that was extended. Katherine's "mark" on her has changed. Since Katherine's no longer human, Deanna doesn't get the extended appeal. It's also why James didn't pick up on it as well as he did with Bella. Deanna's normal scent, without the slight kick (from vampire or human Katherine), is not appealing at all. Plus, with Katherine distributing attachments to the Cullens, her mark on Deanna is lighter. Their "life-connection" isn't as strong. They're still the best of friends, but Katherine's whole existence doesn't solely lie with Deanna.

 **Anastasia** \- I agree with you on the Bella actress part! But I've looked for an actress to capture what Deanna looks like, but there are none so far that are my freckle-faced OC

 **Emily -** That'll be answered in this chapter.

 **Hilary -** Charlie and Benjamin's roles will become highly important to the plot later.

 **Dora** \- I actually was thinking that! Bella's blood reminded me of Fred from _The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner_ , who literally repulsed people.

 **Sephora** \- Once again, I love your reviews. Deanna's "change" isn't a set in stone thing like being a vampire. It came from Katherine's dependence on her. Katherine's soul literally clung to Deanna so tightly, that it wove itself into her because Deanna was always an extension of her, her _only_ extension and outlet for her gift. With her becoming close to the Cullens, the more she grows to love them, to depend on them, and see them as people she trusts, the looser the strength on Deanna, but mostly in an emotional aspect to where Deanna will start to feel only _her_ emotions rather than the combination of her and Katherine. However, if Katherine were to _die_... Deanna would not only lose her as if losing a friend, but would lose a _piece_ of herself. Katherine's existence has been tied to her for so long, and to lose that, it would rip everything Katherine gave her. This includes the vampiric traits.

 ** _Thank you everyone! I live for your enjoyment. Once again, SPECIAL thanks to Sephora, whose reviews keep this story from going off into the deep end of fanfiction! Once again, I am making a chapter 9000 words excluding the beginning and ending notes!_**

 ** _SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! I was going through some personal issues, but I'm back now!_**

* * *

Margot Walsh watched them from the adjacent row. The armrest was down, and the two were lying together - Well, Deanna was lying on him. Margot had seen it before. Two people in love, holding one another was nothing new. Yet, _something_ about them was different. They looked to be two works of art, crafted to perfection, made to be placed together on a pedestal or center of a fountain. Looking at them was like looking at a finely made portrait. What hurt was seeing Deanna in almost perfect harmony with a boy who walked into her life three months ago.

Deanna had the window seat on the plane, looking over the city that was illuminated by lights during the dark night. Her head was resting against his shoulder, her hair tousled and tangled with the cord to a pair of headphones that both she and Edward shared. The white cord was connected into a clunky, 2005 portable dvd player. She couldn't tell what movie it was, but she could tell that whatever it was, it drew her daughter in, sinfully engrossed. Margot Walsh never understood her daughter's fascination with technology, but in this moment, it was all clear.

She could remember it, more than a decade ago, when her daughter was still in messy twin tails, Margot's mother would twist the little girl's hair behind a bandana, help Deanna roll up her pants and sleeves and just watch as Deanna would play in the yard until her clothes were too stained with grass. The little girl would slap on a pair of sunglasses that were too big, and with a decorated cardboard box, Deanna would pretend to drive about, stopping every now and then to climb a tree or jump about on her imaginary road trips

Her daughter longed for adventure. However, when Margot lost her mother, the painted cardboard box was thrown away, the mis-matched pants and shirts were exchanged for itchy socks, stiff skirts, and overly large and equally itchy sweater vests that belonged to St. Mary's when the time came. That's when her love for tech came to be. Without the box, she couldn't escape the bores of life, or what hurt her. Tech? With movies, books, Deanna could go wherever she wanted. She'd cling to the taste for adventure that Grams' gave her. That's all Deanna thought she had left of the woman.

There were things of Grams', but Margot never really trusted her daughter to take care of it at the time. Now, seeing how tightly Deanna clung to her silver heart that hung on a chain, she realized her mistake. Margot hadn't realized until now what her mother was to Deanna. Her mother had been a home. Katherine Marks had been Deanna's home. Charlie's house, Forks had been Deanna's first home equipped with a roof and four walls since Grams' died. Margot had considered taking Deanna home with her, after Renee's funeral, but she almost dispelled the thought this at the sight of how her daughter was finally rooting herself.

Margot hadn't realized that she was crying until Charlie offered her a tissue.

"You okay, Mars?" He asked, cringing at the sound of his voice that was never smooth. "I know we've never really spoken much... ever. But I've never seen you cry quietly since my brother left you."

"Your brother was an ass and didn't deserve loud crying," Margot quickly snapped. Charlie flinched, averting his eyes. Almost as quickly as she said it, she apologized and accepted the tissue. When the silence grew too thick, filled with the obvious regret Charlie had for mentioning the divorce, Margot spoke up. "I'm not going to make her leave, Charlie," she said quietly, knowing how they'd talked about it before. "I mean, I don't want to..."

"You don't have to," Charlie said quietly, not wanting to imagine the house without Deanna. "She's always been welcome-"

"Charlie, you have your own kid to worry about," Margot sighed. "Bella can't stay with a step-father whose going to travel a lot. You don't have a guest bedroom-"

"I'll make room."

"Charlie-"

 _"You can't keep doing this to her."_

Margot had never heard Charlie speak in such a low voice, a voice that was angry, almost pissed. She'd heard something similar from her ex-husband, but he was nothing like the quiet, lost, hovering man that Charlie was. Hearing it from Charlie, it struck her to the core. His hands were in fists, but not violently. They were fists that clenched together to hold what sense he had, not to form a fist to hit with.

"You uprooted her over and over again, Margot. I know you say you have good intentions, I know that somewhere in your heart that you do, but you _can't keep doing this,_ " he grounded out with his eyes shut tightly. Charlie was never one to want to hurt others, especially the likes of a woman who had a tendency to cry. "I get that you couldn't take care of her when she was younger, and your mom dying did nothing to help, but you shipped her off to that school-"

"She was supposed to get better! God could have given her strength to move on. She should have grieved, learned to forgive and forget, but all she did was end up hating me more-"

"She didn't need a god. She needed a mother," Charlie scoffed, crossing his arms. "You won't even admit it will you?"

"Admit _what_?"

"You sent her away because you were guilty," Charlie said, trying to maintain a calm voice. "You dropped her off at a school, all alone, letting someone else raise her because you refused to. I get that you were in pain. I get that, but, damn it, Margot... Take some responsibility," He spat. "You uprooted her from that school, her only friend, and you left her with me. And now that things are going good, you want to uproot her again?"

"She's _my_ daughter," Margot argued. Before Charlie could lay a claim on being a father to the girl, she continued. "-and it hurts to see her. It hurts to see that I've missed _everything_ in her life. I missed her first words, her first walk, her first _crush_ for god's sake! I've missed her first day of school..." Tears were streaming from her eyes now. "It kills me to think of my daughter as this little girl because that's the only memories I have. It kills me to see her now and wonder: _Where was I_? So excuse me for not wanting to give up what time I have left with her being a little girl," Margot spat.

Charlie didn't want to say it, but it came out of his mouth before he could stop it.

"If you whisk her away, she'll never see you as a mother. Mother's make sacrifices for their children, Margot. _Let her go_ ," Charlie implored her. "Please let her go. Don't pull her away, don't take her away from the only place she thinks she has left. Your mother's gone, Katherine's missing... Don't take her away. After this, you go home, _your home_ , and you get yourself together. When the time is right, when you're ready to be a mother, come back… But _please_. For all that is good, _please_.I want you to promise me that you will let her be happy…"

"I promise," Margot whispered, her blue eyes meeting the browns of the man who had stepped up and became the parent Deanna needed, the man who was there for her daughter, even when she wasn't. "I promise."

Deanna would never know this. All Deanna knew was that she didn't have to worry. All she needed to care about was if Jay Gatsby was going to have his happily ever after. She'd never know that she was almost ripped away from Forks. She'd never know that her mother gave up what meant most to her for Deanna(which was Deanna herself). She'd never know of how Charlie, the quiet and timid hermit of Forks, spoke up on her behalf and made sure she'd be happy, at least for the remainder of her high school years. This was something _she'd_ never know, just like how Charlie and Margot would never know of how her life had been in the balance just a day before.

On this day, however, she knew two things. One, the Cullens most likely were just as rich as their house implied. Two, Edward loved her, and she had proof of it. In the morning, when she found out, they, Margot and Charlie could only scrounge up enough money for only _one_ of the two to go check on Bella. However, it was Edward, who "coincidentally" showed up that morning, and offered to assist. Margot and Charlie were quick to decline any money given, but when Edward insisted, shortly after expressing how he had sympathy to anyone who lost their parents(he reminded them that he was an orphan). That gave Margot enough of an excuse to accept the offer and Charlie, who promised Edward to pay him back, they accepted. The only problem after that came when they boarded a plane, and saw Edward as well. He came under the guise of supporting Deanna, which was less of a lie, but for him to actively show his true intentions and save him a long run.

By the time the plane landed, Deanna was tearfully fussy over the ending of the movie.

"Tell me that Fitzgerald had his heart ripped out just as much as mine feels right now," Deanna mumbled as they finished going through baggage claim. Edward chuckled, kissing the dampened cheeks. "Kissing my sadness, how poetic," she glowered playfully. Edward gave her a roll of the eyes and followed her mother and Charlie.

"What was it you once said? ' _Don't be so emo',"_ he recalled. Her eyes lost their brightness in her passive aggression. What a pain it must be to want to hit him, but know it won't even sting. "You started it," he teased. This time it was her turn to roll her eyes. She tossed her rucksack to him, watching an incredulous expression come over his face.

"I know it's not too heavy for you," she smirked. Before Margot and Charlie could look back over what was holding the two up, Edward, with ease, tossed Deanna's bag back to her.

"And I know it's not to heavy for you," he added, knowing her better. She was the kind to like to carry her own weight. She gave him a bright smile and soon caught up with Margot and Charlie. Edward had chosen a flight that Alice knew would be delayed, hence why he was able to come with Deanna. The only thing he had to worry about was in the morning, and Deanna had gotten a sun umbrella for the two of them. She'd swear up and down that she'd burn, if anyone asked. He'd just be the gentlemen to hold the umbrella for her.

When they reached the hotel, Margot and Deanna they were given a suite since Charlie was staying with Bella, that left Margot and Deanna their own rooms. Before Margot could even tell Deanna, Edward promised the door to her room would always be open and unlocked. His room would be the same. Of course, the two retired from the flight, Margot to her room, and them both to the living room. Though Renee's death did momentarily shock Deanna, she showed no tears or mourning. She never truly knew Renee, but she did know how important Renee was to Charlie. Margot had came out of social obligation. The suite was most likely the only upside.

"Thank you for not giving her the time to embarrass me," Deanna said lightly, her eyes focused on the television in front of them. Edward had been admiring the way the sun looked on her. The light streamed in from the windows, highlighting the shape of her head and changing the colors that reflected in her array of brown hair. There was something lovely about her, the angles of her physique. She had what people from Carlisle time with the Volturi would call a finely shaped head that was framed by unkempt hair that was tugged into a braid. He had long since wondered what went on inside that pretty head. Her mind and all it's coils and the charges that shot through it...

Before, he had been so obsessive, thirsting for what went on in her mind. He wanted to sift through it, picking up every piece and examining each atom that made up who she was. She stepped out of the blue, in all honesty. She came like an unpredictable storm. One day she just showed up at school, looking some what pissed off and lost. Edward once thought that love began with seeing someone and knowing that said person was exactly who they were meant to be with. Though, more often than not, love began with, " _Who the hell are you?_ " kinds of moments. Yet, even with all their banters and quarrels, looking at Deanna, he didn't regret any of it. She was the storm that brought water to a drought. Unpredictable, but needed all the same.

"You're staring," Deanna pointed out, scooting onto another cushion to get a better look at him. Though her voice was accusing, there was a smile on her lips.

"Now you are," he said softly with his own smile. "You're supposed to be mourning," he said, cringing lightly as he looked to where her mother was sleeping. "Not enjoying yourself," he sighed in a somewhat scolding tone. Deanna crossed her arms, groaning immaturely.

"Life is too short to waste on the dead," she sighed tiredly, a sadness coming into her eyes. "That's what Grams said to my mother once," she explained before he could ask. Edward nodded, thinking she didn't want to speak of her grandmother. He, however, was wrong. "She would have liked you, you know?"

"Really?"

Deanna nodded as she stretched, the sounds of her spine popping made Edward cringe. He hated the noise. Every time he heard it, he thought of how fragile she was, how easy it was for her bones to move, to break and snap if he ever lost control. She was a tough girl. She was the kind of girl who held tightly to what she had and fought hard for what she wanted. Yet, at the end of the day, she was still someone who could break. She was still someone who was human. Deanna, on the other hand paid no mind to her own habits. Instead, she thought of her grandmother, from her mother's side. The woman was a beauty, despite her age. There was an elegance in her features, something _classy_ in the straightness of a long nose, and the shapeliness of pale lips. Her cheekbones were sharp, but despite this, despite all the angles of her face, it was still soft. Her grandmother was a winter beauty with grey hair that fell in an unbroken sheet to her shoulders and matching grey eyes. There was no color to her body. Pale skin, not as pale as a vampires, but pale enough to notice. There were no marking on her face, no freckles or beauty marks. That was something that made her a strange beauty. She was _clean_ like a canvas, or like the snow. It was refreshing.

Deanna never really thought that her grandmother was actually related to her. With a mother that was born with all the Latin genes of her grandfather, and Deanna who was a melting pot of features. Her grandma being Russian, a Grandfather being Mexican, her biological father being half Mexican and half Irish. It was all combined to make a child with a head of hair, freckles, and profound stubbornness in her bones. But her grandmother, her grandmother was this pale woman who showed Deanna all the color of the world around her. For a woman that looked like she should have worn suits, clean and starched, her grandmother was the most _fluid_ when it came to colors. She was always wearing loose, flowery, clothing. She could easily see the woman as a nature-hippie. However, not one word out of her mouth was cryptic or soft.

"She would have seen you, and she would have probably thought you were some old soul, but she would have loved you regardless. Grams was weird in the best of ways," Deanna yawned, stretching before lying back against him. She smiled at the sight of his gold eyes.

"I would be older than her," He chuckled, placing a kiss on top of her forehead. Deanna rolled her eyes.

"That's probably why she'd like you. You'd know all about the time periods she'd seen. You wouldn't be some young, ill-mannered boy that didn't care."

"I'm old for you," he frowned, his eyes reading of pain at mentioning the different ages.

"You try finding a hundred and four year old woman. Good luck with that," she snapped, irritated with him. They'd mentioned it plenty of times. They'd argued over it before, and it rarely ended on a good note. The only good part of it was that they were always able to reconcile. Edward wasn't a fool though. He learned from mistakes, and he knew that he wouldn't want her to be so cross with him. Especially now. So instead of continuing to fight, he swallowed his pride and apologized. In return she did the same, and the two ended up sitting in silence. Her moving to read, and him to think. It took maturity to not need to fill the silence with words all the time, but both understood it well. All they wanted was for each other to be in the same space, but that wasn't a necessity either.

When the time came, both dressed accordingly. Thanks to Alice, she had something that costed more than twelve dollars to wear to the viewing. The only problem came when she had to bind her hair back, but instead had opted for having her hair loose. It had been returning to it's unruly state since Katherine began to loose the dependency on her. Deanna had taken it's smoothness for granted as it was now tangling and tousling in the wind. "At least I can look forward to this," Deanna had mumbled when she gave up on trying to style it. Her mother wanted to have a fit, at the sight of her daughter's hair not pulled up in the tight and neat way that she, her mother, had. But it was much too late to complain about it when she saw it.

And so, the three had found their way to the funeral home. Edward, in all his time hadn't attended many funerals. There were too many tears, too much sadness that could plague a vampire if he went to every funeral for every human death he'd have to live through. This wasn't the funeral, it was a viewing. He expected Deanna to cry, but she looked fine, perfectly fine. The only time she looked even mildly distressed was when she was looking at Charlie, who looked as heartbroken as she imagined he was when Renee first left him.

Edward wanted to know why. He knew that she was able to be empathetic, that she was more than able to cry. Yet, at a time when she should, not a single tear left her eyes. There were times when he could read her. There were times when he could look at her and know exactly what she was thinking. And then there were other times when she'd vanish. And those were the times that worried him. As much as he loved her, there were times when he began to wonder who she was. What Deanna was was someone who could feel everything or nothing, and that alone wasn't normal. It was as quick as flipping a switch. She looked more irritated than sorry.

"What's wrong?" he asked quietly as they took a seat. They had shown up early, but there was plenty of people.

"I hate funerals."

"People die-"

"They're too long," she corrected him. Her lips parted, breath drawing in quickly, yet when her lips moved, they stopped almost instantly. He frowned at her. He knew that a part of her had to trust him. He knew she wanted to trust him. However, he feared that she didn't trust him - at least, not fully. With conversations she'd respond to, there was more trust. Yet the moment he questioned her, the second he usually implied something or was pressing into her mind, there was a filter. Anyone human wouldn't notice the hesitant twitch of her lips, but he saw every movement. "My mother, when I went to St. Mary's, she dragged me to every funeral she could. Mostly on my dad's side, since he has _twelve_ other siblings and _ten_ aunts and uncles- who knows how many cousins - and she wanted me to learn why life is so important," she explained. "Family, friends, family and friends of a family or friend. I was there."

"How many could she possibly drag you to?" He asked.

"This makes twenty-six."

Edward's neck would have snapped at the speed it turned. His eyes were wide, eyebrows furrowed and his lips parted with unspoken surprise. His eyes briefly fell to Margot Walsh, who was conversing with a circle of what he assumed was relatives based on their thoughts of her. How could a mother drag her own child to see that much death? In addition to what Deanna was feeling at the time, it was no wonder why she'd become who she was.

"Is that why you don't cry?" He asked in a whisper.

"I don't know," she admitted, drawing in a deep breath, closing her eyes. "I honestly don't. I know I used to. I know I cry whenever I read a book or watch a movie, but I don't cry at _this_. And I should." Her nose began to burn. Edward could smell the salty tears, though meager in quantity, that began to cloud her sight. "And here I am wanting to cry because I think somethings wrong with me _not_ crying... It makes no sense." Edward sighed, shaking his head as he took her left hand in his cold ones. He had to wonder how many times would he have to see her cry over her past. She wasn't violently abused, she didn't see anything traumatizing when she was a child. Yet in the end, she was almost as much a victim of the past as he was. "I'm really messed up-"

"So am I," he said bitterly, but he offered the smile all the same. Her eyes flickered to him. At first her eyes read of empathy, _sympathy_ for what he had to go through because of his thirst. Yet, a smile broke across her face. It wasn't wide. It wasn't the kind that he saw light shining down on, or the kind that casts it's own. It was the kind that you'd see in a dim room. It was like a candle, used as light solely for him. Perhaps it was selfish of him to indulge the smile that was meant for no one else except himself, but he didn't even want to care about it anymore. Neither of them were perfect. Neither of them needed to deny themselves anymore. They were past that.

"You know," she began, holding his larger hand against hers, slowly rotating her hand until her fingers fell into their place that was right in between his. "Maybe that's why we work so well. Everywhere you're broken, everywhere I am, the other fits perfectly."

"I love you."

"I love you too... Let's not talk about this anymore though. I'm tired of trying to figure out what's right or isn't. I just want to get through this, maybe talk to Bella, and stop worrying about what makes us who we are." He chuckled, shaking his head at her, as they began to sit in silence once more. Before long became _too_ long, Edward noticed someone approaching them. He had been looking over his shoulder as Deanna was messaging Katherine, who was going through her own ordeal back at home since a personal investigator arrived in Forks looking for Katherine. That's when he noticed a man that bared a slight resemblance to Charlie.

The man had clearly been growing a well-groomed beard. He had a mess of thick waves of brown hair that he'd tried to keep tidy. Then there was the chocolate brown eyes that Charlie so clearly shared. The shape, the size, the same _wrinkles_. Standing about 6'2", a slight beer gut to add to the slightly more brutish appearance than Charlie had - which was none. The stark difference was in the tone of skin. He was several shades darker than Charlie...

Based on the lack of appeal of his scent, Edward was almost certain as to who it was.

"Deanna," the man called, seeing her. In his mind, Edward saw flashes of young Deanna, none of which were older than the year of seven. _So this is the man that left Margot_ , Edward thought, a scowl coming over his face. He knew the man didn't force her to go to funerals. This man didn't rip her away from everything, just as Charlie had called out Margot on. But this man, he had been the reason for it all. Edward saw it, flashes of blonds and blue eyed girls and women. He saw what the man had left Margot and Deanna for. His scowl was nothing in comparison to how Deanna reacted. The very second she saw him, the very second he breathed the same air that she did, Deanna stood up at an alarming speed, her hair becoming a rapid river in the wind as she turned on her feet to face the man she so clearly had contempt for. And just like that, she was lost again. And the man hadn't even noticed it. If he had, he was ignoring the look on her face. "I haven't seen you since-"

"-since you left," She finished as he gestured towards the inaccurate height that he was drawing her at.

"I almost didn't recognize you," her father smiled, not realizing what a slap to the face that was. Edward even winced at the clear pain the flashed across Deanna's eyes. The man just tucked his hands in his pockets, smiling. "So, how have you been, kiddo?" he asked nonchalantly. Her lips twitched with so many things she wanted to say. So many words she had to throw at him. The only thing that stopped her was Edward's hand which squeezed hers. Her eyes flashed to the golden ones that narrowed at her, urging her to not make a scene at a viewing. That only caught the man's attention. "Whose this?"

"Edward Cullen, pleasure to meet you," Edward answered politely. This man didn't know anything about him. He hadn't wronged Edward directly, and, despite what he wanted, despite every pain this man caused Deanna, he remained polite. If only for her. She didn't fall for a brash man that would be rude to her father. She didn't fall in love with him for him to fight her battles. She loved him because he was as human as he could be. Edward had enough control to not give into the instinct to protect what he cared for. Before her father could voice any further thought, Edward's body tensed, his hand that was holding Deanna's squeezed almost painfully. All she did was draw in a silent, yet sharp breath trying to follow where his eyes were, which were no longer on her father, but rather transfixed on the door. "Excuse me," he said quickly, avoiding her father's eyes as he passed by. However, Deanna saw it. It was strange seeing the actual change, the gold melting into black.

 _Bella_.

That was Deanna's only thought as she saw the girl come through the door.

She'd seen Bella in pictures more than in person. Any family event where they were both gathered never ended with them both at the same table.

Grandma Swan was nothing like _Grams_. Grandma Swan - the second wife to Geoffrey Swan, Josefina Swan - wasn't anything like Bella's grandmothers. She wasn't the mother Charlie wanted, and she wasn't the grandmother that Deanna needed. She was a pretty old thing, still kicking. She had dyed blond hair, which excused the grays that would have shown in her former black. She was shorter in height, but taller in presence. A pious woman like her was what made Charlie and Deanna so repulsed to family occasions, and it was what made Margot so zealot. There was no one that could hold something against so many people for so long like Josefina Swan. She had her favorites: Carlos Swan, Deanna's father, Margot Walsh, whose church-enthusiasm prevented her from the fallout. It was people like Renee, Grams, and Katherine that the old bat hated. She hated Renee for her free-spirit attitude. She hated Charlie for choosing Renee over his family. She hated Grams for corrupting Deanna, and she hated Katherine because she was black. It was no secret that Josefina was a racist.

Little Bella, the fragile porcelain doll of a girl with long mahogany hair, a pale complexion, a heart shaped face and rosy cheeks, was the epitome of goodness. Bella never talked back. Bella was too quiet to annoy Josefina. Bella was everything Deanna wasn't. Deanna, on the other hand, ended up arguing with the old woman every time. She was blunt, outspoken, and temperamental for Josefina's liking. This was why, at every family celebration, Bella was seated at the center near the old woman, and Deanna and Charlie were always the closest to the doors. Therefore, the two never talked much before.

So, when she saw the now older girl, she almost became angry at how Edward left. When Bella walked closer to her, having been waved over by Deanna's father, Deanna only became more envious. The girl was too beautiful for her own good. She had the palest complexion that Deanna had seen on a human, almost as pale as Deanna had become, only she had long, straight, dark brown hair with a widow's peak. She looked like she'd stepped off of a classic black and white film. And then there were her unique chocolate brown eyes that lied on a heart-shaped face with a wide forehead. Those were were just as large as they were widely spaced. Her lips are a bit too full for her slim jawline. All Deanna could think of was how any boy could ever look at her and not be smitten. It didn't help that she had a slender, willowy body type that made Deanna have to tilt her chin up to see properly.

Deanna felt small. She felt shorter. She felt envious of the curtain of hair that Bella naturally had in comparison to Deanna's messy waves that were more visible due to the multitude of colors in it. She felt like crinkling her nose in jealousy at the sight of Bella's flawless skin. She'd never been ashamed of her freckles, but the sight of such smooth skin made Deanna's fingers gently brush against the scattered freckles across her nose. Bella was perfect. Deanna's eyes moved towards the door that Edward escaped through, and a horrifying picture came into her eyes. Though she knew Edward wasn't the kind to betray her in such a sense, she doubted she could even handle seeing them in the same picture, should anyone be taking one. Beside each other, Deanna could only imagine that Bella would look perfectly made to stand by Edward, a life size vision of beauty and excellence. The kicker was that Bella wasn't even trying. She never even saw how beautiful she was and Deanna fought so hard to even get herself together in time. Yet, at the same time, the part of her that wanted to cling to her anger lost momentum when she realized that Bella not only didn't deserve her hatred, but she didn't deserve it after losing her mother.

"Hi, Bells," Deanna's father greeted.

"Uncle Carlos, Deanna," Bella greeted quietly, the large brown eyes looking even more prominent from crying.

"Isabella," Deanna greeted quietly. Her father was about to make a remark about death bringing people closer, but Deanna turned her back, moving towards Charlie. Her mind was filled with Edward, concern for him. She could only piece together that Bella was, once again, too attractive for her own good. If she was anything close to smelling as good as she looked, him leaving wasn't as surprising. So, trying to focus on Charlie, she took a seat beside the man who was wiping his eyes with a tissue. Across the room was Phil Dwyer, who looked just as torn up, but twice as angry at Charlie's obvious turmoil. He didn't try to look any stronger than he was when she held his hand.

She knew exactly what he was going through. She'd lost Grams, and that alone was an unimaginable pain. She couldn't even think of how painful it would be to lose someone that she loved as much as Charlie loved Renee. It was the kind of situation that nobody could have dreamt of because you only expect those older than you to die. At least Deanna had been prepared for her grandmother's death. Lovers and children weren't supposed to die before you. Yet they did. The Marks family was going through the loss of Katherine.

"It's too quiet," Charlie whispered, his reddened eyes meeting Deanna's. His head began to shake. "It's too quiet," he repeated. His pain in three words being visible on the contortions in his face. "Renee hated the quiet," he whispered against Deanna's shoulder as she hugged him. He was falling apart, and all Deanna could do was try to hold him together. Yet Renee's death was something she wasn't sure he'd be able to get over. Deanna tried to relate. She tried imagining what her life would be like to lose Edward.

She imagined it was like the whole world has covered itself in a veil of mourning. The pain would be too much that it would be unspeakable, and in her heart she felt the sharp pain in her imagination, and that alone was almost too much to describe. It almost rendered her speechless just like Charlie was, staring at the casket that held her Aunt Renee. She and Charlie both liked the quiet and the peace it brought, yet the idea of it being too quiet to ever hear the ones they loved was too quiet. It was to the point that Deanna felt like seeking Edward out and forcing him to speak to her until the end of time.

Charlie's lips moved, but nothing came out. He was desperately trying to communicate something about the state of utter confusion the love of his life's death has catapulted him into. The sea of noise that Renee once cause had become a comfort, and the silence became unbearable. It almost didn't feel like it's appropriate to be quiet. She couldn't help but feel angry that in a room full of people, no one was speaking to him, making the fear of silence come to life. It was voyeuristic, horrified. Yet, Deanna could see why no one wanted to speak. What do one say to a man who has lost one of the most important people in his world? What is there to say? Many have probably experienced the death of a lover, former lover, it wasn't uncommon before then and it wasn't even uncommon now. But that doesn't mean that it still doesn't create a feeling of horror about a man who has lost the woman he loved, a man who was already lost seemed to look hopelessly without direction. When they got home, Deanna only feared him trying to walk off his grief for just a while, but that wouldn't help.

They can't imagine themselves in his place because they do not want to. Who would do that to themselves?

Deanna.

She, despite her distance from most people, was empathetic. And seeing all of their family watch Charlie and they pity him. It didn't help that the gossip became heavy with their knowledge of his impossible grief with a woman who wasn't even his. Deanna owed it to him to let him know he wasn't alone. So, she looked up at the cross that was above the casket. She was never one for prayer, but she decided that if there was ever a time to pray, it was then. Charlie lost someone who always seemed to exist and now does not. So, she closed her eyes and prayed. She didn't care if her thoughts were going to no one. She didn't care if they did. All she cared about was giving Charlie hope that they would.

Pity was all the company have to give. Deanna wouldn't stand it.

"Talk to me," she prompted. Charlie shook his head. " _Dad_ ," she pleaded. A sob escaped his throat as he felt like he was falling apart once more. He spoke nothing, just trying to compose himself once more. Deanna tried and tried again, but she soon became tired of talking to herself. This wasn't the silence she was fond of. This wasn't the silence of her and Katherine reading quietly. This wasn't the silence of her doing homework while Edward just kept her company. This was a silence where nothing was being communicated. It was the silence of not knowing what to say or do. It was the loudest kind of silence, and it drove her mad. She thought it all sounded like a bad story.

There had once been a woman, named Renee, who fell in love with him, and he fell in love right back. In that very time he ruined their life together because he loved her and she didn't love him enough. And when she was gone was the moment he needed her most. She was the only one who foreshadowed the dreariness in his life, but escaping it made no difference. The only ones that were there for him was Deanna, who then waved Margot over. A divorce wasn't losing the love of their lives, but Margot knew more about losing someone she once loved more than anyone else. Though her former husband was in the waiting room with the deceased's child, Margot knew him. She'd lost a husband. It had been years ago, but she did love him. And she'd sit by her daughter and ex-in-law because she loved them. She didn't deserve them, but that didn't matter. They would all share a tragedy that not even they can truly grasp, but at least they can not truly grasp it together.

"I loved her," he admitted, not caring if Phil heard. He loved Renee too. He deserved to grieve without the glares. Deanna just nodded, trying to dry tears she'd shed for Charlie's pain. Margot promised that he still had Deanna, if not her. "I'll visit. If only to check up on you two," she promised them. It was official. After this was done with, Charlie and Deanna would be alone. Regardless of what Bella did. Charlie knew that she hadn't visit him in years, and nothing would change much even with her there. Deanna and him, they only had each other now. It's might not be forever, but it's something. He'd have Bella too, even if she doesn't speak back.

This is how the rest of the viewing went. Deanna and Margot kept near Charlie, trying to just get him through the day. After it was done, they went back to the hotel. Charlie and Margot would share a room. It was decided that they didn't need him to be near someone that looked so much like Renee to haunt him by never speaking to him. Even during the viewing, Bella stayed silent, retreating into her mind. Though no one heard her, she was understanding the grief and isolation that Charlie must have felt when Josefina and Geoffrey decided to abandon him after he left his family for Renee. It was too quiet, despite the chatter and apologies many people offered her.

They all seemed to move on auto-pilot. A silence following them. Margot didn't question where Edward went. All the woman cared about was taking care of the man who was the father to her daughter. The two retired to their room, and Deanna left to hers. She knew her mother was tired from crying for Charlie who wept for Renee. No one would care that her door was closed. She took a deep breath and pretended that it was her home in Forks. She showered and went to bed, closing her eyes, longing for Edward. She never really felt as satisfied as she was with him there, and when she felt his arms around her once more, she didn't hesitate to turn towards him, her greens meeting the topaz eyes.

"What happened?" she whispered softly. His hand gently embarrassed the side of her face. He stayed silent for a good while, trying to find the words to explain it to her.

"You're cousin... She's... She smells unlike anyone I've ever..."

"A singer," she whispered, understanding. "I figured as much," she sighed, turning her back to him, her fears spiking ever the same. Despite the fact that it wasn't Bella's intention, she felt just as robbed as she would have if Bella meant to try to draw Edward towards her. With her back to him, she felt the bed shift. Edward wasn't blind. He knew when she was cold, even when she wasn't fully so.

"What's wrong?" He asked quietly.

"Nothing."

"Deanna," he sighed, pleading with her.

"I'm fine," she said sharply, crossing her arms. She knew she had no right to be cross with him, and she wasn't. She was crossed with herself and her own fear of losing him. Distancing oneself from those who could hurt them was her coping mechanism...

Yet he would have none of it.

"Deanna, don't lie to me. We're past that," Edward sighed. Deanna let out a frustrated breath and turned to face him once more, feeling upset when she saw his words rang with truth that was matched in his eyes. She almost hated how well he knew her. "What's wrong?" he asked once more, tucking wet hair behind her ears, his cold hand running over her skin until it rested on the side of her neck, a spot that was sensitive to the cool touch. He knew her well. She was reluctant to admit it. Whatever it was, he could see that she was either ashamed of it or that she was ashamed of him knowing.

 _"She's pretty."_

Edward frowned at the distress that appeared on her features. Her eyebrows were furrowed, yet her eyes were in a wincing cringe. Edward would have chuckled at this, but it was insecurity, and it wasn't amusing. Insecurities, they weren't supposed to be romanticized. This was something that caused her pain, and he'd rather suffer a thousand years than see it on her face.

"She's pretty-"

"You are as well."

"Then she's prettier!" Deanna snapped exasperatedly. He shook his head, frowning. "Don't you dare place the guilt on me because if you do I'll-" Her whispering was silenced with his lips. At first she was infuriated with him cutting him off, but then she felt the love he was projecting, and she matched his kiss, even continuing with aggression before she felt him pull away.

"You are the only one I want... Please don't think otherwise," he pleaded. Her expression softened, but there was still a shred of animosity between her and him.

"I'm not sorry for my worries. What if you look at her - or anyone else! - one day and realize that I'm not what you want. You said it yourself! You're older... What if you grow bored of me?" She shuddered at the thought. "I don't... I know I'd be able to get through it... But it _hurts_."

"When will you stop being so masochistic?" He asked with a slightly frustrated frown. His lips pursed together as his arms slipped around her waist, pulling her close to him. "The same could be said for you. You're young. Will you relish being with the same person for the rest of your forever? Will you regret that I dragged you into my life?" He countered with. Her head tilted upwards.

"Never," she promised. "I'd never get tired of being with you... Technically I'd never get tired -"

"Must you make light of this?" He huffed, shaking his head. She just held onto him tightly.

"Always."

The silence between them rested. It wasn't thick. It wasn't unbearable due to the way they both needed it. All they needed was their closeness. All they needed was to feel like the other was right beside them and that it wouldn't change. Deanna needed it most. Yet when the silence wore down, she squirmed lightly to arch her back, trying to see her face, to see the way he looked at her and only her. It wasn't thirst. It wasn't lust. It was love. That's what she had to take pride and assurance in. No matter if Bella had his thirst, she'd have his heart, and that had to be enough for her.

"I won't pretend to know everything about you. I intend to save some secrets for the future, but I can tell you that these problems that you keep creating in your mind? They will never become real just as mine won't. I'm not scared that you will lose interest because I love you. And so long as you love me, I will be satisfied with you. We don't need consuming passion. You don't need me to thirst for you to know that I want you," he assured her. "I know that no amount of words could ever give you the peace of mind. That is up to you in the end, but if you could let me inside your heart… I promise that whatever this is between us, it will only be a problem in just one chapter of our lives," he promised.

She nodded.

Her her tightened around his arm as she fought the feeling of falling asleep. She loved him, and loving someone as much as she loved him meant that she didn't want to waste a single second of her human life without him. Unlike the person she was holding onto, she didn't have forever. She was the most unorthodox heroine. In fairytale the people who weren't heroes never got a happy ending, so she clung to the happiness she felt in the dream she was living. And when she fell asleep, she clung to her dreams. She dreamed of her family, happily alive. It was thanksgiving and she felt truly happy with who was at her side, Edward. Even in her sleep, he made her cheeks redden, causing her to stir from her sleep. In her dream, they announced an engagement. Though they hadn't been together for long, she could see it. However, she wouldn't admit it. And while she slept, his presence, holding him close is what her subconscious mind found a sense of security in. Here was someone who protected her, even when she doesn't have control over her thoughts. She let out a shaky breath. Her head nuzzled in the crook of his neck, her arms desperately tightening around him body. The other hand moving to where it was splayed across his chest. And when morning came, she was fighting to stay asleep. Yet, she woke, a tear streaks down her cheek and onto his neck, blazing a hot trail down to the bare skin. She blinked a few times, her arms slackening as she pulled herself upright, gingerly touching the tear streak.

"Was it a nightmare?" she heard him ask. She shook her head.

"No. It was a _good_ dream," she corrected with a smile. "Even in a sad time, you bring me happiness," she smiled softly, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. Her silly heart was fondly beating with him beside her. "Are Charlie and Margot awake?"

"Yes."

"The funeral?" she guessed. He nodded. Her smile fell. "You won't be coming?" she guessed. Once again he nodded. "Bella's going to most likely going to have dinner with Phil's family. Can you come with me?" She asked, not wanting to face Josefina alone. "Our grandma is insufferable, and I'll need you to get through it," she joked, partially serious. Edward smiled and nodded a third time. Sighing, she fell onto her stomach on her side of the bed. Her back arched and she stretched her limbs like a cat waking from a nap. Even as an adult, she still bared the habits of the cats she chased and followed as a of the corner of her eyes, she saw him staring at her with admiration. She hoisted herself up, untangling herself from the sheets. She moved towards the bathroom when she felt a cold hand on her wrist, and she felt herself be whirled around, ending up in his arms, him gazing down on her. He lowered his head and kissed her. It was chaste and sweet, and when he pulled away, Deanna was smiling once more. "What was that for?"

"Just to remind you that I love _you_. No one else."

 _"I know..."_

* * *

 ** _Once again, I'm sorry for not updating, but I still ask that you don't kill me by not leaving reviews!_**

 ** _1) What do you think of Margot's relationship to Charlie and Deanna?_**

 ** _2) What do you think about Deanna's feelings towards Bella?_**

 ** _3) With what just happened, what do you expect out of Edward meeting Deanna's family?_**

 ** _I always love hearing your thoughts about the story, so if you have time to spare... The more detailed the reviews or just more reviews in general, the longer the chapters! Of course just you enjoying the fic is enough for me, but like Deanna, I always want more._**

 ** _Thank you all! I love writing this fic and you guys make it all worth it!_**

 ** _~Queen of Idjits_**

 ** _Thank you all again_**


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks to _Adela, Marion,_ _cutieswetie, and_** ** _TheElementalPanda._**

 ** _Megan_ \- I'll explain in this chapter.**

 **Thanks to everyone, I live to see your reviews!**

 _ **Once again, I'm sorry for waiting long. My mom had surgery, and it went really bad. She's fine now, so when I finally had time to spare from making sure she wasn't bleeding out from her face, I was able to write this! This chapter isn't as long as the last one, due to reviews, but I still appreciated them, so it's more than the status quo that I've set! So, with that, I hope you enjoy!**_

* * *

She tried to feel something, she really did. The funeral came and went almost as fast as Deanna imagined Renee's time on the earth felt. She looked to the left, seeing Charlie holding her mother's hand as he tried to make it through a mountain full of pain. Looking to the right, she saw Bella, standing there, a porcelain doll standing in the sun, sullen and solemn, silently suffering. Deanna's lips curled up, wanting to say something, anything to the girl, but what could she offer the girl? Apologies were worthless. Surely Bella would have heard enough of them by now. Comfort? Bella didn't even appear to want either of her fathers. Friendship? Perhaps, yet at that thought, Deanna's lips closed. She was being childish. Yes.

What kind of girl held slight animosity towards one who was grieving? Her. It was no secret that in all Deanna's goodness was the flaws that marred humanity. She was a girl. As much as Deanna was all for girl-power and feminism to the max, even she fell victim to the harsh realities of being a young woman. From her youth, if she was too boyish, she was ugly. If she was too girly, she was too _boring_. If she was too smart, she was a know-it-all. If she kept her mouth shut, then she was stupid. If she listened, she was a goody-goody, but if she disobeyed she was a "problem" child. This only got worse when she grew into her skin. She understood why girls were so competitive. In the patriarchy they lived in, if a girl was too content then she was too arrogant or lazy. If she wasn't satisfied, she was just annoyingly wanting what she couldn't have. And then, the snickering and biting looks came. Deanna knew they would come. Everyone poked fun at everyone. "Grow thicker skin, Deanna," they would tell her when she lashed out at the people who scorned her. "Calm yourself, their words mean nothing," her mother or teachers would say. Yet those words were the kind that sunk in, festering. It left a mark on someone's heart birthing a child of pain: Insecurity. Insecurity didn't justify her feelings towards Bella. They were unkind, unflattering, and unneeded. However, it did bring slight reason behind Deanna's wrongdoings.

As much as she wanted to believe that she wouldn't look at another girl and compare herself to, she knew it would happen. And jealousy looked ugly.

She'd endured it for as long as she could. There were so many other insults that had marked her, making hurt after months of humiliation. They kept bothering her, eating away at her until she became something that she never wanted to be: ugly. She was ugly in her jealousy and envy. She was ugly in the way she felt like Bella stood in the way of all she wanted, and that guilt began to consume her just as any other guilt. And then she decided to do what she did with most of her wrongs: show no remorse. People could scold her all they liked, but they couldn't make her sink any lower in guilt if she gave no remorse. It was her coping mechanism. It was a bruise, committing it to memory as it would have if it were on her heart, slowly turning the organ an ugly purple. So, she decided that she wouldn't make friends with Bella, not yet at least. She knew Bella didn't see Edward. She knew he didn't have any feelings for Bella, but where there was chance, there was doubt. So, it was better to spare the fallout if she just kept her distance.

And so, she raised her head. The feeling of a cooling breeze dancing over the skin of her body as she embraced warmth which was given by the sun. She took a deep breath of the hot, dry air as she tried not to choke on the scent of the white lilies and the perfume of an elderly woman in front of her. When she felt her head begin to ache in irritation, all she could do was stare blankly as the ceremony took place and try to understand. In all honesty, she never saw the point in funerals. There was no sense in consecrating an empty vessel. There was no sense in attending a funeral for someone you never even cared much for. She understood trying to be there for family. She just couldn't force herself to have feelings that she didn't. She felt sympathy for Charlie. She felt sympathy for Bella. However, unlike the people around her, some of whom never even talked to Renee, she couldn't force herself to shed tears. She didn't know Renee. Not as much as she wanted to, but she refused to riddle herself with guilt. There was no sense in regretting what she could never correct.

Sobs could be heard all around her, and the sound almost drove her mad. She knew she, of all people, should have been teary eyed in the wake of such tragedy, but she couldn't. Hell might not be feeling pain. Hell might just be feeling nothing at all.

When it came time for the dinner, she sat alone. No one wanted to sit next to her, and she didn't blame them. At the head of the long table was her grandmother. Deanna wasn't at her right, but she wasn't at the opposite end of the table where "Grandmother's least-favorites" sat. If it weren't for Charlie's ex-wife dying, she and him would be seated at the other end. But, Charlie's seat was purchased with sympathy for his loss. If it weren't for Bella having a quiet meal with her step father and his family, Deanna, _most definitely,_ would have been seated at the end, where everyone there could see how much her Grandmother hated her, driving insults through her like knives. Beside her was an empty seat, at her request. Her mother, who sat across from Charlie, was nervously glancing at the old hag. Even after the divorce, Margot only wanted to impress her ex-mother-in-law.

All around, murmurs about insignificant things floated around the room, nothing that she cared about. All she could do was wait for Edward, in hopes that her Grandmother would just let her be, to do what she did best and ignore Deanna.

It was almost night, one of her favorite times of day. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, leading her to miss the weather in Forks. Rich light spilled through the long windows, shining on them, in bright colors of stained glass, making her feel like she was far away from where she was. As minutes passed, the light struck between her and where he would have been sitting. All the noise around her blended together, creating a dull hum, droned out by the late birds that were chirping outside. She only assumed that he'd tel her why he was late when he arrived. They'd established that neither of them liked to be in the dark. Then came the sound of the doors opening and closing, fine shoes hitting the wooden floor softly. Deanna's head turned swiftly seeing him. 'I hate being alone,' she had once told him. And though she preferred being alone in comparison to being tormented at a family occasion, she was able to take comfort in him. And he'd gladly give it to her

She didn't hear how quiet everyone fell, watching as the pale stranger walked calmly towards her, a smile on his face. Margot's face relaxed when she saw him, knowing his daughter was better behaved when he was around. Despite her beliefs about Edward Cullen, he did care for her daughter, and that alone was apparent in his face.

A smile, crooked, was on his lips, as his eyes remained on _her,_ his Deanna Walsh, marveling in the beauty of how the light was resting on her freckled face. She smiled a sad smile at him, her hand resting on her necklace which lied over her heart. It was the locket that Katherine had given her, but it no longer represented only her and the "baby-vampire", as Emmett so often called her. It was a symbol of the coven, the family, that had brought a tenderness to her heart. His pale fingers curled over the wooden chair's back, gently and subtly pulling it out before taking his seat, his eyes never leaving hers. Once again, they were locked outside of time.

 _"Who might you be?"_

The magic of the moment shattered at her grandmother's voice. Her eyes turned towards the dark-grey haired woman. Unlike Grams, her grandmother was a hardened sight. She was darker, skin more wrinkled from the frowning she'd been known for giving. Her eyes were cinnamon colored, cold despite the warmth of the color itself. Edward had a harder time imagining how this woman was even related to Deanna.

Edward, ever the gentlemen, bowed his head slightly, a charming smile on his face.

"Edward Cullen. Pleasure to meet you," he added out of politeness. Deanna didn't scowl, but her smile vanished as she watched her Grandmother's eyes narrow like a hawk's.

"Hmph," her grandmother grunted. "Figures... All my people seem to be goin' for the likes of your kind. All 'cept for my own boy," she said softer at the mention of her favorite son. Charlie only shifted in his seat. Edward's eyes narrowed as he heard every vulgar, racist thing that was running through the woman's head. He could tell why Deanna wasn't fond of her. She was racist, not to the point of being hateful, but she didn't like her "blood chasing the whites" as she thought of Charlie and Deanna. It was hypocritical, but the worst wasn't there. Not yet.

"Hypocritical much?" Deanna muttered.

"Mind your manners, girl!" Her grandmother barked, picking at her food aggressively.

"I have a name, you know?" Deanna snapped, Edward only raised an eyebrow. Margot's face collapse in worry. She should have known that as polite as Edward was, he was respectable enough to not try and control her daughter. So, he sat still, watching as Deanna seemed to face off with her grandmother. "Maybe you don't remember it. After all, you always seem to forget how I'm _your_ granddaughter. _Your Daughter,_ this. _Your daughter_ , that. Girl. You seem to forget that I'm actually your granddaughter and not some stranger that my mother drags to your poor excuse of a dinner-"

"You really think you somebody, huh? High and mighty. Datin' some rich _white_ boy and bein' around the likes of those _gays_ -"

 _"You're disgusting."_

The room fell silent.

"All I've ever done is protected, cared for, or loved you. I've kept inviting you and your smart assed mouth to every family event! I even put in a good word to that school and got you're mother to send you to get you cleaned up! I've done everythin' I can to save whatever goodness you got left in you, and all you've got to say is that you're disgusted with _me_?! How dare you, Deanna Wal-"

"How dare you," Deanna quickly shot back, fury shining brightly in her eyes. "You're just a racist, homophobic, bag of bones that can't even take responsibility for yourself! You just bitch about everything, and all you do is pretend to be some nice old lady, that drags people out of the gutter that you put them in! So excuse me fore not wanting to tolerate every single thing that runs out of your discriminatory mouth," she spat angrily, standing up. She hadn't even eaten. She didn't care to. "You go on and on about tradition and how to better a family that you don't give a shit about. So, how about I start a tradition that benefits your poor illusion of family: Me, never coming to any family event so long as your still abusing and manipulating those around you-"

"Deanna!" her mother cried, pleading her daughter to apologize to her grandmother. Deanna only scowled, turning on her feet, storming towards the door.

"You call that abuse? You deserve whatever sorry future I was trying to save you from!" She heard her grandmother shout from behind her as she pushed the door outwards. She was beyond angry. She couldn't find it in her to remember what she was tearing herself apart from prior to her outburst. She knew that her actions towards her grandmother weren't right, but she didn't regret them.

"Deanna," she heard Edward say softly, his cold fingers curling around her wrists, pulling her into him, stopping her from storming out of the building. Before she knew it, a hand was in her hair, the other around her waist, pulling her close until his forehead rested against hers. "Don't," he whispered, not wanting her to grow as angry as he'd seen her. He knew her well enough to know that her anger was destructive. She wasn't innocent in the situation. She shouldn't have had an outburst, but she wasn't fully guilty either. Either way, he could only care about bringing her down from her anger. Whatever happened, it didn't matter. After all, soon they'd be back in Washington, back to Forks, far from whatever took place.

 _"I hate her..."_

"I know," he whispered, pulling away when he felt her relax against him. He could only frown at how torn apart she became. He knew she wasn't hurt by her grandmother's words, but rather of whatever was said building up to it, years of words cutting her apart. It was a wonder how such an outburst hadn't came sooner. Gingerly, he tucked a strand of messy hair behind her ear. "Tomorrow," he promised. She nodded, taking a deep breath. "Tomorrow, we'll go home. Charlie's going to stay- Alice saw him," he added. Deanna frowned.

"Alice can see him? I thought she couldn't see my family."

"Alice can't see you. It's why she didn't see what happened with your cousin," he didn't want to say "Bella" due to her clear feelings towards the girl. It was better to not say it, to not trigger any negativity. "But Charlie's going to be here without you. He's already called Billy Black to check on you until he gets everything sorted out," he added. Deanna only nodded numbly. He sighed, placing a kiss on her forehead. "It'll be okay," he promised.

"Maybe I am a savage," she mumbled, still thinking on what had happened in the dining hall. Edward chuckled, running a hand through her messy waves.

" _My_ savage," he corrected, earning a smile from her.

Taking her hand, he lead her to the front of the building, waiting until the sky went dark. He knew she wasn't tired, and going to the hotel alone would have driven her mother mad. So, he opted to take her for a walk down the busy streets of Phoenix. It took time, but eventually, she grew distracted with the sound of music, chatter, and the lights that illuminated the streets. Edward's hand never left hers, and he didn't stop walking until he was sure an hour passed, before turning around, walking back. There was something in the air that soothed her anger, and that's what he noticed. Though she didn't like crowded places, there was a certain tranquility in the bustling streets. And he understood exactly why. They were strangers. Strangers in their own bubble, going unnoticed among the people. It was the most normal kind of night they could have shared. If he'd known that they'd be leaving the dinner early, he might have planned a trip to the Desert Botanical Garden, knowing how pleased she was when she found synthesis in life.

He'd show her in the future, he promised himself.

By the time they returned to the hotel, after Margot scolded her daughter, not as much as she would have, too tired and somewhat understanding of it, Deanna went through her routine of showering, getting comfortable, and waiting until she felt the cold of Edward's body being near. That night, they didn't speak. She just rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes and drifting to sleep as he drew circles in her back. When morning came, she was alone, but her bags were packed. Charlie insisted on being there as they departed for their flight, Margot having insisted on them not having the hotel to themselves for more than a minute, meaning they weren't left alone until they'd disappeared into the plane. Of course, prior to then, Deanna hugged Charlie, her mother too, surprisingly, and apologized for how her actions affected them, being sure not to apologize towards the act itself.

"Today," Deanna had said quietly, looking out the window as the plane took off. A bittersweet smile rested on her face. She didn't want to leave Charlie, but she knew it was better to be away than to linger in the presence of her grandmother.

"Today," Edward echoed, feeling more at ease with her being just the same. For the remainder of the flight that she'd spent awake, they'd worked on the homework that they'd missed. She tried not to ask him for help, too stubborn to let him. Her denying him was because she had to do it on her own, that if she was going to have to go through high school again, she'd want to finish her first time on her own. That pacified him enough, but he would always make sure to check her work, if only to see her get worked up when he tried to correct her. The other portion of the flight was spent with her leaning her head against him, the occasional sigh making him smile. It was simple things like those moments that made him feel alive.

It had been slow at first. At first, she'd hated him. Or, at the very least, almost hated him. Then he slowly made certain of her being a civilized companion. Later they were friends. They weren't the kind that laughed and smiled. They were the kind that spent their time together, not always chattering, not always interacting, but rather just enjoying being near one another. They would work, they would occasionally talk, leading to a debate every so often, and there were often times when their lips would find one another's. And with every second spent together, Edward felt as though it were easier to exist. There were two sections of his afterlife: Before her, and after. Before her, he was a broken, self-loathing man who was certain that no one could ever love him. He had been so sure that he was the most vile and evil creature to ever walk the earth. Then, _she came_. She was this strong-willed woman. She was this infuriating human who didn't take any of his wallowing sorrows. And she gradually became the sun and stars that illuminated his never ending night. And to her, she was this lonely, stubborn, reclusive, insubordinate, and borderline vulgar girl. Then he came along. He didn't tame her. She was every bit as dangerous as before. She just realized that not everyone was a threat.

When they reached Port Angeles, it was still day. Knowing Charlie knew the approximate time in which they'd get back, Edward didn't waste much time to return her to her home. Though she didn't say much, he could tell she was homesick, despite being in Arizona for only three days. She breathed in the air like it was her first breath ever. Her eyes closed and she looked to the skies which were cloudy, as always. And then, when she finally deemed her surroundings true, she smiled, at the house, her _home_. Edward made no sound, just silently taking her bags inside before she even made it up the stairs. Yet, when she reached the threshold of her room, she frowned, not taking a step beyond the doorway.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He'd grown used to having to ask her about her thoughts. She, however, hadn't fully became accustom to giving them to him.

"The room," she said quietly, her eyes narrowing as if feeling slight pain.

"You're room?"

" _The_ room. This will be Bella's, like it or not," she sighed, slowly walking through, as if the room were a stranger's and not one that she'd spent at least a quarter of the year in. "I'm not even leaving and I feel like I'm losing my home..."

"Deanna," Edward sighed, moving towards her, tucking her hair behind her ears, a strategy for gaining her attention. "She's not your enemy."

"I know," she bluntly threw back, glaring as she stepped away from him. Her eyes went to the window, not wanting to look at him. "That doesn't change the fact that nothing seems to stay for me. I just... I feel like the universe is fighting to take everything I want away from me, and-"

"It's not."

" _I know._ "

"You're paranoid."

 _"I know..."_

"You have nothing to worry about."

"That doesn't change the fact that I _do_. I know I shouldn't, but _I do,_ " she snapped, with a heavy sigh, rubbing her temples. There was a frustrated growl before she fell onto her bed. _Mine_ , she thought, clutching her sheets tightly. She knew Bella was too soft, too faint of heart to even want to take anything from Deanna. Deanna was the vicious kind of woman that would start a war just based on a threat. Bella was the kind to suffer in the name of peace. Deanna couldn't help but grow even more envious of the brown eyed girl. She wasn't even trying and she was already better. That's when Edward sat on the edge of her bed, resting a cold hand on her shoulder. He knew when she was torturing herself with hypothetical. She tried to shrug his arm off, but he just moved quickly to pull her upwards into a sitting position, his right hand behind her neck, forcing her to look at him.

"Don't."

She gave him a quizzing frown, her eyes searching for the rest of his message.

"Don't what?"

"You're turning it off," he whispered, his face relaxing from a frown. He looked calm, yet upset. It wasn't disappointment. It was just... it was longing. "You used to do it with your mother. You'd do it whenever you feel pain-"

"I wasn't _pained_. I was angry-"

"No. Don't lie, Deanna," he snapped quickly. Even his patience ran thin. It wouldn't help her if he just prompted and prodded her mind to seek the right conclusions. If he did, if she found out his slight leading method, she'd just become repulsed and fight it. It was better to outright say it than to tip-toe around what her issue was. "You weren't angry at your mother. You were _hurt_. You were hurt, and you tried to turn it into anger. But even before then, you'll turn it off when you think it's too much. All your feelings, you just... You _turn it off_. I don't know how, but I can see it. You close yourself off, and let whatever's eating away at you fester - and that's not healthy, Deanna!"

"Everyone's entitled to pain, Edward. You've spent almost a decade hating yourself! You of all people know what that's like!" She retorted with, scooting away, until his hands gripped her wrist. "Let. Me. Go."

"Deanna," he pleaded, pain riddling his face. "Stop retreating into your head. Like you said, I, of all people, know. You act like nothing gets through, and you might even convince yourself that you don't give a damn, but the truth is that you care so much, you feel as though it'll consume you. What you don't understand is that if you don't face it, it _will_ consume you. So stop retreating into your pretty mind, and just _talk_ to me... Don't leave me on the outside. Don't go where I can't follow," he begged.

She stared at him, her expression hardened, her mind battling every emotion that swarmed towards her heart, but he got through. She could see how much she was hurting him. She could see the reflection of her pain. She could see every truth to his words, even though she wanted for nothing to be blind to it. But he knew her. He knew her well enough to know that, although she could endure self-inflicted pain, she'd sooner die than to continue to hurt him. She loved him more than she loved her sense of pride. And humility was something they both needed to learn.

"What am I supposed to do?" she asked quietly.

"How about you stop channeling your pain into anger?" He asked sharply. "I know it feels easier to be angry. And _it is_ so much easier to be angry. Being angry makes you feel strong, even though whatever makes you angry usually is from feeling as though you're weak. Easy things rarely bring satisfaction and happiness. So, just _talk_. First step to happiness," he deemed such.

"You can't just decide to be happy," she said lowly, her eyes darkening.

"No, you can't," he agreed. "However, you can decide to spend your time being miserable. Is that what you want?"

"No!" She said quickly.

"Then just be honest with me-"

"Honesty isn't what people want."

"It's what _I_ want."

"Honestly?"

"Honestly," he insisted, feeling tired. Their arguments, not matter how long or short, always exhausted him. Fighting with a loved one was a battle in itself. One has to fight to fight them, so when the battle comes, they're already tired.

" _Honestly_ , I'm scared. I'm scared that everything I get in life is going to be ripped away from me. And that fear? The _fear_ itself is what hurts. It's constantly living in fear and in pain of losing twice as much as you gain - and I _can't_ lose what I've built here," she admitted with a shudder, trying to stifle the tears. Edward's heart felt like it broke in two for her. She didn't need to endure a civil war, an epidemic, or even a bear attack to tear her apart. She was a person with her own hopes and feelings and history and nightmares. In her own way she was as lost as he was. That was another reason why they fit so perfectly together. She was already so acute with causing her own pain that it left only expectations for others to help in it. Hurting her was the last thing he'd ever want to do. _"I don't know how to stop it..."_

"Deanna, you already know the answer," Edward smiled, shaking his head. "You were the one who taught me the difference between what reality is and what I could make of it. Why do you think that I love you so much? You're strong enough to know my pain, and I'm strong enough to know yours... Whatever hurts us can be our strength if only we share it. So, _please_ , just tell me why you're so afraid of Bella." And she told him. She told him every last fear, envy, and bitterness towards Bella that was unjust. And he listened. And when she was done, it was nearing dark, and all Edward could do was hold her close, as he always did.

"One day, these feelings will leave you," he promised.

"One day, I'll be over a hundred years old living in a secret world," she snorted, trying to ignore the pang of pain when she knew that one day, she'd be surrounded by the Cullens, and the likes of Charlie and her mother would be just a memory. " _But,_ for now, I'm still stuck in the real world, where bad things happened for no reason, and people suffer from things that aren't their fault," she sighed, finally just accepting that there was no quick cure for her feelings. She'd accepted that the only thing that would make it easier was time, and Edward was more than willing to help her with it.

"You act like being turned will take you to a whole new universe," he pointed out with a frown as he helped her unpack. He still didn't fully want her to be like him, but there was no other way.

"Won't it?" she asked, nonchalantly examining a pair of jeans, trying to tell if it were dirty or not.

"It's dirty," he answered. "And no. The world is very much still the same. The only thing that's different is you."

"Metamorphosis?" she compared it to, glancing at him and back to the pants. "I can still wear them... At least until there's something more noticeably dirty..."

"Deanna, they're dirty," he smiled, seeing her roll her eyes and toss them into a hamper. "And _yes._ It's beautiful... until it isn't. The burn you wake up with is the worst... And if you feed, it feels like nothing will ever amount much to the pleasure of the first drop of fresh blood."

"Still," she tried again, not wanting to think of the negatives. She was already decided on such. She didn't think that she could handle much more doubt after the few days of it that she'd endured. "All of it just ascertains my belief that real life, the life we should be living, is just some faulty backup plan that the universe almost condemned us to," she sighed. "I still wonder about the hell I'd have to endure of trying to apply to college."

"You don't want to go to college?"

"I don't want to _worry_ about it," she corrected. Before he could respond, the doorbell rang. Quickly excusing herself, Deanna moved downstairs. Having expected a call, she was unprepared for the likes of Billy Black, so she assumed that by now, Edward was either gone or far enough to seem so. But, when she answered the door, she was greeted, not with the likes of Charlie's best friend, but with Jacob Black. It had been some time since she last saw him, but it was long enough for her to notice the faint trim to his long hair that was held back in a hair tie. He was much too tall for her liking, but aside from the lanky build there was still a a hint of childish roundness to his chin that almost disappeared at the friendly smile on his face.

"Hey, Deanna," he greeted with an awkward wave. Deanna returned the greeting with a smile, stepping aside to let him in. His eyes raked the room, a slight crinkle forming on his nose. Her eyes watched his expression. It was as if he were smelling something unpleasant. Deanna only relaxed when his shoulders did. Giving a faint shrug, his brown eyes returned to the freckled face of Deanna. "Sorry," he choked out. "Dad was supposed to call, but he accidentally broke the phone," he explained quickly. Deanna almost rolled her eyes. _Of course he did_ , she thought bitterly. Billy Black was a good man, but he seemed to be sticking his nose where it didn't belong. "Um, Charlie was worried."

"He could have called, but dads will be dads," she shrugged, trying to remain casual. Jacob's face contorted as fast as lightning.

"Dad?"

"Charlie might as well be," she added quickly. "My biological father isn't exactly around," she explained, her cheeks heating with embarrassment. Jacob noticed her discomfort and just scratched lightly at the back of his neck, looking at the ceiling.

"Suppose most aren't these days," he tried to return it to the casual tone with. Finally, returning his eyes to her, he smiled. "So, I know we don't usually hang out, but I heard Bella was going to stay with her step-dad, and visit in the summer - "

"Wait what?" Deanna quickly cut in with, blinking several times, as if to try and wake from a dream. "When did you hear about that?" she asked.

"Um, ah, I heard it when my Dad talked to Charlie - about an hour or so ago," he stammered at her sharp demands. "She doesn't exactly like it here," he added with a saddened smile. Deanna cared little for it though, a smile coming over her own face for a moment before she had to recompose herself, not wanting to be entirely disrespectful. _Time, time, time_ , she told herself, not wanting to feel her heart grow colder over foolish jealousy. "So," he began, trying to draw her out of whatever slight bliss she'd been lost in. "-I wanted to know if you wanted to come to a, sort of, barbecue-dinner-thing. It's my friend, Embry's, birthday and anytime my dad is encouraged to welcome a friend, he invites Charlie. Naturally, that invitation is extended to you," he added quickly, not wanting to be rude. "So... Would you?" He asked nervously.

"When?"

"Three days from now. Will that be a problem?" he asked, cringing in hopes that it wouldn't. Deanna shook her head, leaning on one leg as she tried to think of anything that was coming up. Though, she should have known it was nothing. She wasn't in sports. She wasn't in any musical activities. Hell, she couldn't think of a hobby she had, other than crying and dying via books. So, at the shake of her head, Jacob's face became bright. "Good! So, um... Great!" He rocked back and forth on his feet slightly. It took Deanna awhile to figure out that he didn't quite want to leave yet.

"No plans on a Saturday night?" she asked, trying to bring up any reminder for him to have a reason to go. It wasn't that she didn't like Jacob. She did. He was a stellar person with a smile as warm as the sun. He just wasn't who she wanted to spend her time with. However, she knew she'd survive without Edward. He wasn't necessarily essential to every waking moment of her life. And, after all the time they did spend together, it might have been healthy to have alone time. Except, she wasn't alone, nor was she wanting to be such.

"No... Embry and Quil, my friends," he added. "-they're both fishing with the Clearwaters," he explained, cringing at the mention of one of Charlie's favorite pastimes. This caused Deanna to smile. The smell of fish never quite left the fridge... Ever...

"In that case, want to order a pizza? Nothing says 'I don't want to fish' quite like coming home smelling like cheese and pepperoni," she joked. Eagerly, Jacob nodded and moved towards the living room. "Find a movie, and I'll order it," she called. When her back was turned, a sigh escaped her lips, and she closed her eyes. She told herself that socializing couldn't be _that_ bad. Pulling out her phone, she quickly messaged Edward, telling him not to wait up. For now, she'd have to focus on the fact that she was still human, and she would cherish the taste of _actual_ food and dining out like a teenager. Her lifetime wasn't as long as Jacob's, but he didn't need to know that. For now, all he had to know was that her smile was from the idea of food and friendship.

Of course, the time passed by faster than she expected it to. Jacob had picked out a scary movie, but neither of them were scared. On opposite couches, they spent two hours eating slices of pizza and fizzing soda as they poked fun at the inconsistencies in the film. All in all, they'd made jokes, laughed, and waited until it was sunset before Jacob had frowned at the aspect of leaving. Deanna, having enjoyed their time, encouraged him to come again, and that was the end of it. Their time left her with a strange feeling of warmth. It wasn't like Edward's, where she only had to feel all the tender affection she had ever felt for him surge up in one infinitely concentrated instant for every second he was present. No. Jacob's was the warmth of the first light of a new day. It was friendship.

It wasn't the kind of instantaneous relationship she'd founded with Katherine. It wasn't the tug of war kind she had with Edward. It was the kind of friendship that felt natural. It was the kind that felt as though they already were friends before, but had grown apart only to fall right back into place. That is what an afternoon felt like with him. And, when night came, when Edward returned, neither spoke of him. Edward simply inquired about how she felt, and she told him the truth: She felt good. Sometimes, all one needed was a distraction. Though she loved Edward, their love was the kind that was everlasting. Her love for Katherine was the kind that people started wars for. But there was care for simple friendship that was, well, simple.

The next day was the kind of day that felt quick, yet slow like a spring time breeze. She'd gone to Edward's house, and they did what they could squeeze into the time before Alice latched onto Deanna. It was no secret that Deanna favored Rosalie over Alice. Rosalie, though not as chipper as Alice, quickly formed a tenderness for Deanna. Edward could hear it. Jasper could feel it. The rest of the family could see it. They saw it in the way Rosalie would claim a seat, quietly, beside Deanna. They heard it in the softness of her voice as she would tell old memories to Deanna, wanting to make sure that Deanna knew exactly what she was giving up. They felt it in the warmth that filled their hearts when Rosalie accepted a surprised hug from Deanna whenever she left for Alice's room, leaving the blond awestruck. That was the slow part. It was the quiet moments of just existing in harmony with the Cullens. It was joking with Emmett, questioning Carlisle, loving Esme's motherly ways, and in Rosalie's kind presence. Then Jasper and Alice returned. Of course, having assumed that Katherine was with them, Deanna's heart raced to inquire why until Edward explained that the girl had left to visit with the Denali Coven.

Then came the quickness. Alice had whisked the girl away, eager to satisfy her hunger for design and fashion. Deanna was put in charge of one thing: Obedience, which Edward had openly laughed at. Esme and Carlisle left their children to go and hunt, but the rest stayed, watching Alice flit around the room with a measuring tape, color palettes and more. Rosalie was the one to give input, whilst Jasper, Emmett and Edward watched as Deanna not only succeeded in irritating the cheerful little pixie of a vampire, but also made Rosalie laugh in a ringing of bells. But, the moment passed, and soon there was a discussion of fabrics and a debate of color choice, all of which didn't include the girl of whom was to wear them. Deanna, instead of partaking in it, opted to join Emmett in a game of Gin.

"Gin."

"Deano, that is not gin. You can't just say 'gin.'"

Rosalie scowled along with Alice, hashing it out until Jasper tried to intervene, defending his wife. Rosalie would have gotten upset over Emmett not "defending" her, if it weren't for the main fact that her husband, many times over, knew that she could stand on her own quite well without him. For once, it was a fair fight. Alice, who was at a loss more often, due to Deanna's presence blocking her from seeing what those around her were going to do. So, the shorter girl was much more on edge than usual, fighting with her sister, who wasn't as reliant on seeing the future as Alice. Rosalie, on the other hand, was savoring it.

 _"Are you two seriously going to fight about someone else's dress?"_

"Gin."

"Deanna, you can't..."

 _"I've studied this!"_

 _"_ I've _never needed to study..."_

"Gin."

"Do you even know how to play this?"

 _"Alice, maybe we should wait until it's later-"_

 _"Jasper, I love you, but,_ seriously _, not now. You don't understand. It's her_ first _prom!_ "

 _"It'll be her last if she has to wear that."_

 _"Well, then. Maybe we should ask her! Since we can't agree..."_

The two turned, expectantly towards the slight platform that Deanna was supposed to be standing on, but then their eyes had to look to the corner of the room, at a small table where Edward was amusingly watching Deanna play against Emmett, the three of them blissfully unaware of the war that was being waged between two sisters on the other half of the room where their brother was hopelessly trying to make peace. Alice was the one to call upon Deanna, sweetly using her name. However, only one word left Deanna's mouth.

"Gin."

 _"Wait... That's actually gin."_

* * *

 _ **Once again, I'm sorry for waiting long. I always ask if you enjoy it, but due to the lack of reviews on the last chapter, I worry if you still do...**_

 _ **So, if you can, I have no questions for this chapter, just leave your thoughts, questions even!**_

 **~Queen of Idjits**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks to _sholtsclaw698_ , _Visenya_ , and _Guest_!**

 ** _Cheyennebrooke_ \- Thank you so much! I really try to contrast from the original, while maintaining it's respected timeline.**

 ** _Giselle_ _Gigi_ \- I'm sure it was... Like 90% sure!**

 **Special thanks to _griezz_. I hope you understand why she faded into the back by the end of this chapter.**

 ** _Thank you everyone! I live for your enjoyment. I apologize for the long wait. I've typed this chapter several times over, and I fear that I'm letting you all down. However, I still have hope! Please, please, please, if you have any thoughts, suggestions, or questions, drop me a review. I live for knowing what I'm doing right and what I can fix or make better!_**

 ** _SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! In my defense, testing is coming._**

* * *

Katherine had done many things in her life. She lied, cried. Hell, she even died.

And she did all of those again.

When she had left, she had left under the guise of visiting the Denali Coven, a way for her to train her thirst which had actually fallen under control the more independent she became. There was less feelings to deal with. As much as she loved Deanna, it was for the best. Carlisle's orders. They were unhealthily codependent. Of course, it had taken some time. Katherine had originally been unwilling to let Deanna go, but time and distance did her good. Visiting the Denali's sounded like it would only improve that. Of course, it was a lie. As good as Katherine was, or at least tried to be, nothing could masquerade how easy it was to do bad. And being a liar? That was easy. Everyone may not have been a liar, but by the time they learned the ways of the world, they were liars. Charlatans, just as she could be, currently was. It was all a lie. A massive fabrication that came from her lips. And for what? To check on something.

By the time she arrived in town, the Cullens would know that she wasn't with the Denali coven. Esme had a bad habit of being too caring, something Katherine was unfamiliar with. She had been motherless in one way or another. Unlike Deanna's mother who cared too much, Katherine's cared too little. That didn't stop Katherine from caring though. That was the unfortunate truth about having humanity. Caring about someone you care for doesn't vanish the moment you realize how much less they care. And, when it came to caring, Katherine had more than enough to spare. Her heart was the kind to swell with compassion to the point where she'd rather feel nothing in fear that it would tear her apart.

Deanna knew that.

For that, Katherine was sorry. The girl was still developing. Deanna didn't realize what Katherine was doing. Deanna didn't see how much Katherine hated it.

She was letting go.

The truth was that Katherine hated being a vampire. She put on a good front. It was enjoyable at times, so it wasn't terribly impossible to look happy or, at least, content. Katherine knew what Deanna wanted to believe. Deanna would want to believe that her friend was alive, even in death, and living out her second chance to the fullest. Deanna would want to feel like she could join her friend and live on for as long as time in some apple-pie life of endless possibilities. However, the truth wasn't as good a story. The truth was that Katherine was dying. Katherine, before the change, wasn't living. She was surviving, and only by leeching off of Deanna's life force. This only became even more so when she turned. And, after hearing what became of Deanna, how much pain she went through, it only became more apparent. That was her wake up call.

Katherine made a decision.

Deanna's life meant the world to Katherine. And the only way that she'd truly be able to live was if Katherine let her go. No more extra feelings in her brain. No more crippling nature of providing life for someone who was so ready to give up. Katherine loved her enough to let Deanna carry on in the world. Deanna was strong. Sure, she was often weakened by the feeling of pain, but that was the beauty of Deanna. She was the kind of girl who could swallow that pain and after some time, she would turn it into power, fuel to do something else with it. Deanna could survive a world without Katherine. She would just need to have a reason to stay.

That's why Katherine took a step back. Katherine forced herself to let go. She forced herself to try to find comfort in Jasper and Alice, but when that didn't work, Katherine had done like Deanna. She turned her sadness into cause to let go. Slowly, with some focus and distance, she saw Deanna turn back into an individual. She watched and encouraged Edward's relationship to the green eyed girl. Deanna would need him when Katherine left. Katherine even did small things to push Rosalie towards the girl, dropping some words that would have a clear appeal. Friendship and love were reason enough to stay when Katherine would leave where Deanna couldn't follow.

So she stepped back.

There was one thing she hadn't anticipated.

Edward.

The more she stepped back, the more he was able to hear. And he heard her loud and clear. When he confronted her about it, it was a mess. He had been angered, more than she expected. She should have. She should have known that he would have fought against anything that would have brought Deanna pain, but she knew one thing more. He understood. That was the Achilles Heel of being a mind reader. He was able to understand her. Therein stood the beauty of empathy. One didn't have to like a person to empathize with them. And he, of all people, understood what it was like to loath the vampire life. But, she didn't hate vampire life. She was just tired. She was an old soul that was ready for peace, peace that was denied. She'd do what she intended to eventually, she decided. The only thing that convinced Edward to not immediately tell Deanna was that if she did go through with it, if Deanna knew, she'd be ridden in guilt. Katherine made it clear that what was best for Deanna was to not know it was coming, for Edward to get her to find something worth living to endure the pain of death. And that pain would be no one's fault but Katherine's. For that, Katherine followed the example Socrates had. Instead of offering a rooster to some healing god to repay a debt, she settled on making sure she'd endure some pain before going. And like Socrates, her death would not be a defeat.

It would be a cure.

She didn't know when it would happen. She was patient. Whenever Deanna was ready, was what Katherine promised herself. And, when the time came, Katherine would do what Katherine knew she was more than equipped to do. She'd lie. She'd go to Italy. She'd stand before the Volturi and lie. She'd say she revealed herself, or she'd look whatever Italian monarch in the eyes and claim she made an immortal child. The story didn't matter. Her true legacy would be left to Deanna to tell some adopted child, maybe a cat, knowing Deanna, about some girl who promised a forever that ended so quickly.

"Miss?"

Katherine turned on her feet, raising an eyebrow at the person behind her. Katherine's amber eyes settled on a pair of chocolate brown human eyes that were wide and a bit too large for the girl's pale face. Katherine's face slackened, feeling almost guilty in having caused any distress for the girl, especially with a sharp look at her thoughts being interrupted by the shorter girl. Cocking up an eyebrow, her lips curling upwards in a slight smile, trying to assure the girl that she wasn't at any fault despite Katherine's previous expression.

"Um, I, ah, I think you have my bag," the girl said quietly, pointing a pale, slender finger in the suitcase that Katherine was holding. Katherine quickly glanced downwards, feeling almost flustered, despite not being able to blush anymore. Sure enough, it wasn't the same bag. Same color and size though. Katherine subtly lifted the bag off the ground. It was hard to compare weight when everything was lighter. The girl hadn't noticed. Instead, she looked down, a bright red shade coming over her face. "I... Sorry," the girl choked out.

"No, it's all good," Katherine smiled, handing the suitcase to the girl, who grunted at it being placed in her hands and not slid over.

"You make it look light," The girl sheepishly said, smiling softly. Everything about her was very... _soft_.

"That's just because I have super strength," Katherine shrugged, saying it in a nonchalant manner. The girl let out a breathy laugh. The mere sound of it made Katherine's lips tug upwards. How quickly her mood had changed from depressing to calm, as if she'd gone from the terminal nostalgia of a dying woman to the first laugh of a babe without a second to spare inbetween. Katherine's lips curled upwards, flashing a set of pristine, white teeth. Offering a hand, she introduced herself. "Katherine."

"Bella."

"I didn't catch your last name," Katherine said carefully, at the sound of the familiar name. She'd be a fool not to notice how the description of Charlie's daughter matched the name of her lovely acquaintance. The girl, "Bella", just gave an awkward smile and shook her head. "That's alright," Katherine shrugged. "Better not to give your name to a stranger. You never know whose dangerous," she sighed, knowing that she was quite possibly the biggest danger in the airport. It was the best place to hide. Large crowded places were the easiest to become invisible in.

"You don't look dangerous!" Bella blurted out, looking from the ground to Katherine's eyes, unsure of what to say. Katherine simply scoffed.

"You don't even know me, child."

"Child?" Bella repeated, gawking. "Nevermind that... I don't need to know you to know that look."

"Look?"

Bella nodded, guiltily. "I had that same look when my step-grandmother told me that I couldn't stay with my stepdad." At least that confirmed who she was.

"Step-grandmother?" Katherine repeated, knowing damn well about the old hag whose genes somehow were connected to Deanna Walsh. Bella simply nodded, wincing at memories of the old bat who never seemed to care about being gentle.

"My dad... His mother died too early. His step mother is not really what anyone expected. Our family is very... isolated. Grandmother... She's very..."

"Audacious."

"Yeah," Bella swallowed, giving a tired sigh. Katherine raised her eyebrows, pursing her lips. She knew well what the old woman was. Racist, for starters. Homophobic, secondly, and, thirdly, inexplicably rude. All three were things that Katherine loathed. "My cousin makes that face every time she sees her," Bella smiled, partially amused. If only she knew how right she was to compare Deanna to Katherine. It was then did Katherine begin to wonder why Bella was in Forks so early. She wasn't supposed to come back until much later. The summer, and the summer only.

"So your grandmother just dictates where you live? You can't be any older than me."

"How old are you?"

"Timeless," Katherine smiled brightly, mentally patting her back at her jest. Bella didn't seem as impressed.

"I'm not old enough to decide... Besides, it's only right that I do. Charlie's one of the few family I have left now."

"Oh, Bella," Katherine sighed, shaking her head. "Family is much more than blood." Glancing at the clock, Katherine decided that if there was ever a better time to return to her Casa de la Cullens, it was then. "I'll see you around, Bella."

And with that, she left the girl, almost in a daze from the way Katherine's hair slid over her shoulder as she swiftly exited, curls of black hair dancing behind her, catching the light and shimmering like stars in the night's sky. All Bella could do is bite her lip as her heart pounded nervously, like tremors after a quake. She was, without a single doubt, _dazzled_. She could think of no better way to describe it than such. She was so caught in awe, in the sheer beauty of the amber eyed girl. She couldn't help but be reminded of the sun. The way the girl's eyes and smile breathed the rich warmth of a star standing out from her skin and hair. She was truly, a beauty.

As Bella's face grew warm, Katherine was putting distance between the two, finding herself in a cafe. She swore if she had a beating heart that it would feel hot as it would have drove on. Bella had seen photos in Charlie's house, but none captured the pale girl as she was in person. Bella looked about as sweet and as fragile as porcelain doll, and all Katherine could feel was the need to protect the girl from whatever ailed her, and by the look on her face, she was in pain. Perhaps it was numbed, diluted, but it was present. That was what spurred a sense of protection in Katherine. For the first time, since she was just a child opening up a book, she felt awe and joy and hope and longing at the same time. She felt them strongly, the power and an innocence that not many people ever experience in adulthood. That was what she felt staring at Bella. Anything she was feeling before was postponed until a later time. Her mind was clouded pleasantly.

"Excuse me," she heard someone say behind her. She was plucked from her daze. Turning her eyes fell upon a man.

The first thing she noticed was his eyes. They a _peculiar_ shade of green. Below them were light freckles and a friendly smile. The second thing she noticed was his height. He was _tall_. Taller than her at least. Despite this, he sported a very common look. He appeared muscular. A strong jaw that stood out from his very generic short-cropped Ivy-league hair. He was handsome, yes, but oddly common. Dirty Blond hair. Green eyes that didn't necessarily stand out among a crowd, especially in his attire which was comprised of a plaid shirt, jeans, and boots. The only thing mildly interesting about what he wore was a ring, and she only noticed it when he moved his arm to scratch the back of his neck, a nervous expression on his face.

Katherine hadn't been as infatuated with him as she was with Bella. Then again, Katherine was and would never be as aware of men as she was of women. However, he did give her a strange sense of déjà vu.

Deanna.

"Is this seat taken?" he asked, motioning to the chair across the small table she'd chosen to plant herself at. She shook her head, her eyes never leaving his face. "Somethin' wrong?" he asked, frowning as he noticed her watchful eyes.

"No... You just remind me of a friend," she answered, forcing a small and taut smile onto her lips. She watched his eyes dilate with interest.

"Really?" he asked with an amused chuckle. "I don't get that a lot."

There was a surprise. He looked to be an average American boy who wouldn't catch her attention if not for who she associated his features with.

"Don't tell me," he insisted, looking upwards as if to contemplate life's true meaning. "I look like your long lost lover?" he jokingly guessed.

"Close," Katherine laughed lightly, looking down at her hands, where a ring of her own was. It was a heart. A gift from Alice, only to match the one Deanna wore around her neck. "My best friend," she corrected. He pursed his lips, nodding as if to be slightly disappointed in that.

"So you're single?"

"Yes, but I'm sure that doesn't matter to you."

"No?"

"I'm about as straight as your ring."

"Ah. Your friend as well?"

"She's _not_ available," Katherine smirked. That's when his expression changed. His smile became tense, his jaw hardening as well. The eyes didn't look as warm and welcoming as before. "Something wrong?" she asked, repeating his words to him. He shook his head. "Just prowling for single women?" She guessed, half irritated with that. Most men she met were like that. Too expectant, less patient.

"Actually I'm not looking for someone like that."

"But you are looking?"

"Yeah."

"For who?"

"She's someone I knew a long, long, _long_ time ago."

"I assume she lives here?"

"Possibly. I know she's close."

"Sounds stalkerish," Katherine said bluntly, wary of the man before her. She knew he couldn't hurt her. She was practically indestructible. Something was just off about him. "So, stranger, how do you know? That she's close, I mean."

"Dean," he corrected. "And I just do. I'm sure you of all people would know what it's like to know when someone special to you is close."

"And what would make you think that?" Katherine asked quietly, her face setting into a frown at his name and implication. "You don't know me."

"But I do."

"Who the hell are you?" She hissed, her eyes darkening, transfixed on him and only him. She could felt the cool sensation of her venom flooding towards her mouth. Her hands were tensing, her back arching towards him, as if readying to lunge across the table. She'd never killed a human before, but she was doubting the man before her was such. He didn't look scared in the slightest. In fact, he looked more at ease than he should have. She knew how humans responded. Their hearts always would race, out of fear or pleasantries. Yet, his heart was steady.

"Currently?"

"What do you want?"

"Your help," he answered simply, his face giving little to no emotion. He had no reason to show any. He found out what he wanted to know.

"With what?" She asked warily. If she had a heart, it would be pounding.

"Finding someone. You know her. If you didn't, you wouldn't react to me like you do."

"I don't know who you're talking-"

"Don't lie."

Katherine's gears began to turn quickly. She stood up, ready to move quickly out of sight, but her legs didn't move. She turned her upperbody, staring at the apologetic green eyes that she knew, but didn't know at all. She drew in a sharp breath, feeling like a human that had been plunged underwater. There seemed to be a cushion of air around her mind. She felt like she was in that strange stage of falling asleep. She tried fighting it, but whatever was happening, it was numbing her. It was slowing her thoughts and drowning out everything around her, even the slight burning sensation that occupied the back of her throat. She felt her vision become unfocused, blurring in a way that she had forgotten since her human days.

 _"I apologize for having to do this, but I need you..."_

She saw that his lips didn't move, but she heard his voice as clear as day.

 _"Sit down."_

It was a command, once again, clear as fresh water. It cut through the muffled sounds around them like a bell, and, just like that, she sat back down in her seat. Calmly. Her eyes came down on him. She couldn't think as fast as she once could, but she could feel. And she felt terrified.

"Speak, _quietly_ ," he commanded, verbally this time.

"What do you need from me?" She asked, barely above a whisper. She felt fury build inside her, wanting to scream, but it only come out in a sigh. "What are you? Some sick mind control guy getting _it_ the only way he can?"

"What? No!" He said quickly, cringing at what she'd implied. "No. I just need you. Your memories. Your knowledge... Your body."

"You said you weren't-"

"Not like that, Katherine."

Her eyes twitched, wanting to widen. She'd never told him her name.

"No, I need you. You know _her_. That's why I have to do it this way," he said, tapping his temple. "I can't let you go and tell her anything. I can't have her see me coming."

"What do you want with her?" Katherine asked, a slight sharpness in her tone. It would have cut right through him if she weren't under his influence. She'd fight like hell if it meant protecting Deanna. She didn't know how to fight whatever he was doing, but she swore that she'd figure it out if she had to. "I'll die before I let you hurt her..." Her breathing became heavier, the only expression of anger she could muster.

"I don't want to hurt her. I'd _never.._."

"Then why can't she know you're coming? I don't get the feeling this is a surprise party you're wanting," she said sarcastically, despite the calm pace of her words. "She wouldn't avoid you unless she either hates you or fears you."

"She has no reason to fear me. She doesn't remember."

"You don't need memories to have hatred."

He said nothing.

"Tell me, what did you do to her."

"It's all a mistake..."

"I don't care."

"You don't have to. I do. She'll see it... She _has_ to see it. That's why I need you."

Katherine yelped as he arms hit the table, baring her wrists to him. Fearfully, she looked to his eyes as he placed his hands over where clear venom was running through what was once veins.

"I won't-"

"You won't have to."

Katherine's eyes slammed shut as a burning hot sensation burned through her. She wanted to scream, but all that came out was a gasp. It felt like she was in her transformation. She felt like she was _dying_. Burning from the inside out.

 _"I'll do it for you..."_

* * *

 ** _Once again, I'm sorry for not updating, but I still ask that you don't kill me by not leaving reviews!_**

 ** _So... This chapter, we took a break from Deanna and Edward, and we focus back on Katherine and a new character. Here's my questions (feel free to answer your own or ask):_**

 ** _1) Who do you think "Dean" is?_**

 ** _2) What do you think his motives behind finding Deanna is?_**

 ** _3) How do you think this will tie into the future?_**

 ** _I always love hearing your thoughts about the story, so if you have time to spare... The more detailed the reviews or just more reviews in general, the longer the chapters! The last chapter received less, but I still will try to get this right for you guys!_**

 ** _Thanks to those who read, and I send my love to those who take time to review_**

 ** _~Queen of Idjits_**


	18. Chapter 18

**So, I accidentally replaced this chapter instead of adding to the story... So bare with me! I'm so so so sorry! I'll probably rewrite it, but I'm exhausted right now...**

* * *

Silent. She had remained silent for hours.

Esme had tried to coax her into explaining, even just a little insight to what happened, but Deanna gave away nothing. She just stared blankly at her bruising wrists, the same wrists that Katherine had gripped tightly.

It had happened.

At Prom, in the middle of it all, Katherine had came. She latched onto Deanna, ranting madly about how long she'd waited to find her and that she wouldn't let her go... She _kissed_ her. She kissed Deanna, shoving a letter into Deanna's hands before fleeing at the sight of Edward. It was all too confusing... It was too maddening... Nothing made any sense...

It left her in ruins.

Her hair had fallen. Her dress was discarded. Now, tucked safely into a large shirt, provided by Emmett, she sat, curled into the corner of couch farthest from the windows, something which caught his attention. Deanna, she was fond of the sky. She grew uneasy with any place where she hadn't a window. He had deducted that she was fond of them for one specific reason: she enjoyed the aesthetic. She enjoyed gazing at the ever expanding universe illuminated by stars that provided light for their own systems. She enjoyed the idea that they were not alone in their vast universe, and she believed in endless possibilities, and the stars reminded her of such an idea. For her to choose to stay away from the window, for her to turn her back to the stars...

She eventually fell asleep. As soon as her heart slowed into a soft cadence, Rosalie stepped forward. Her eyes were dark, her jaw harshly set in a clench. She looked every bit like a vampire. Her hair was knotted into fitful curls after running her hands through it relentlessly. It was no secret that Rosalie favored Deanna. Deanna valued life, human life, in the same way that Rosalie had. She, like Rosalie, longed for a family, a chance to grow old and watch her legacy live on rather than remain eternal herself. Deanna found the thought of Death comforting. The thought that her life could end at any given moment liberated her into fully appreciating the beauty, pleasure, and even the pain that made up the grand rite of living. She was in love with being human.

Rosalie respected that. Although Rosalie enjoyed the way Deanna made her brother feel, although she enjoyed Deanna's company, she didn't want to see Deanna go through the same pain, the same regret, that she went through every time she saw a child or elderly couple. Rosalie was in her own perdition. She could never have a child of her own. She could never build a permanent life somewhere. She could never experience the beauty that came with transcending from the crisp and freshness of adulthood into that of an old woman. She'd never be able to have a line of her own children because she couldn't afford the pain of putting a child through vampirism, and she couldn't stomach the thought of having her own child proceed her in death. She had her own little nuclear family, and that was all.

It wasn't as though she was miserable. No. She had Emmett. She was surrounded by people who cared for her, even at her worst. Deanna was one of those people. She had seen the beast within the beauty. She had looked into Rosalie's eyes, she saw Rosalie's lips curl into a half smirk and a half snarl. Deanna knew that there was something completely and utterly dangerous about Rosalie, and _she didn't care_. She knew that Rosalie had a temper. She knew that Rosalie had an unapologetic anger that haunted her still. And what did Deanna do? She didn't cower in fear of Rosalie. She didn't judge the blond for what she had done. No. Instead, Deanna had placed her hand over Rosalie's cold fingers, fully knowing that those were the same hands that ripped men apart, and she forgave her. She looked Rosalie in the eyes and gave her a genuine smile. She saw her, knowing all the blood she had shed, and she accepted her. She saw Rosalie's most vulnerable and most dangerous side, and she loved her anyways. And that was why Rosalie was so adamant on keeping Deanna alive.

Deanna was as much a member of their family in Rosalie's eyes as any of her brothers or her sister.

"What happened to her?" She hissed quietly, staring Edward dead in the eyes.

Silence fell over the room. Edwards lips didn't move. Instead, his eyes left Rosalie's and settled on the human that was frowning even in her sleep. Even in sleep, she couldn't find her peace. They remained still. All of them, still and silent, staring at either Rosalie, Edward, or Deanna. After some time of pure unsettling silence, Emmett stepped forward, moving towards the sleeping girl. Edward, ever the protective, stepped in front of his brother. Emmett simply gave his brother a stern glare and moved to pluck Deanna from her spot, carrying her slowly upstairs. He knew that Deanna wasn't going to speak, and there was no logical reason to keep her in the room while they were all frustratingly trying to get answers when there was little to draw a clear conclusion from.

When he returned, Rosalie opened her mouth, this time calmly asking the same question, restraint clearly sounding through her voice.

Edward broke from his statuesque posture, falling onto the couch as he frustratingly raked his fingers through his messy hair. Looking up, exasperatedly at his family, he shook his head, shrugging his shoulders, clearly at a loss of words. He knew almost as much as they did: Nothing.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I don't know what happened... She was with Jacob Black one moment… And," Edward cringed, gritting his teeth together. "I had been watching them, but something came over me..." He looked to Carlisle with nothing except shock written across his sharp features. There was something so desparate in his eyes, something sired from pure fear. "I left her… I don't know why! I just walked outside… When I finally came to my senses, the first thing I did was find her! She was on the ground… Weeping. She just begged me to get her out of there."

"It's true!" Alice supported before anyone could question further. For the first time in a long time, she looked serious. Her small features were soft, but unhappy. Pensiveness and confusion irritating her to the point where she looked physically exhaused going over and over what had happened, trying to make sense of it all. "I've been trying to force visions, any, but there's none. I can't see anything - not that I could see much before," she added, frustration surging in her golden eyes. Shaking her head, she looked to her brother. "The letter," she said, remembering the scented stationary that was on the ground when they found Deanna. "What did it say?"

Eyes turned to Edward.

"I don't know."

"What!?" Rosalie exclaimed, the first to express the shock that they all felt. "What happened to my overbearing brother that wouldn't hesitate to rip open the letter, the only thing that could give us insight to what happened?" Rosalie hissed, advancing towards him. Edward shot a glare at her, eyes dark with hatred.

"Believe me when I say that I want to! I just... I can't," he spat bitterly, shaking his head, placing his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands.

"Why!?" Rosalie pressed forward. Emmett stepped behind her, a single hand over her shoulder, just in case...

"You were there!" He snapped, throwing his hand in the air in the direction towards her room. "You saw what not telling her looks like! No offense, Rosalie, but I am intent on keeping my promises... Nothing would be between us - No secrets! If I read it... If I read it and I think it'll hurt her... I might just let it come between us. If I don't know before her, I'll be doing what's right: respecting her."

It was then did everything sink in. He changed. There was something in him, desperately yearning to take control and shield Deanna from every single threat that he saw. He loved her, and he knew that she loved him, but there was something more that she valued than "love". She didn't want someone who professed their love for her. She didn't want someone who would take charge and make choices for her. She wanted someone who she could connect with. Someone who saw her as an equal, someone who wouldn't ignore her wishes, someone who would treat her with the respect that she deserved. As much as he would like to treat her as the precious jewel that he saw her as. He knew she would sooner break her own heart than be with someone who wasn't her equal.

She respected herself.

And he loved her for it.

"There is times for doing what's right, and there are times to do wrong for the right reasons... Edward, where's the letter?" Alice asked gently.

Edward looked at his sister, torn. On one hand, he wanted to trust what she said. He wanted to let her assure him that the circumstances permitted doing this, shielding her. He wanted to protect her. She was the only one, the only human that wasn't being blinded by his appearance. She was the one who looked at him. She saw the self-loathing, broken man that believed that no one in the world _should_ love him. She looked at him and all but told him to take all his self condemnation and shove it up his ass. She didn't listen to him. He bared his soul to her, wanting to save her from the monster he saw her as, and she didn't take any of it. She ignored his warnings. She made her own decision and she chose to love him.

 _"You're a savage."_

 _"And you're an asshole."_

Their words echoed in his head...

 _"Such a mean little girl."_

 _"Shut up you old bat."_

She was the one thing in life that he couldn't replace.

 _"You start a relationship with a vampire, and he asks you to meet his family, and you say no?"_

 _"I'd say hell no, but I figured that would be too rude."_

She was inimitable.

 _"You love me?"_

 _"Don't ask stupid questions..."_

She loved him. And he loved her. In all her roughness, in all her bitter and sharp quips, he loved her. That was why he would wait. He loved her enough to respect her wishes because he knew that love was more than just sweetness or passion. Love depended on respect, for oneself and for the other. Looking at Alice, he shook his head. He would wait, if only for one night, until he knew what she would want. She was in no place to decide tonight, but knowing her, she would push aside her confusion and at least read it. And he would be there, at her side, as her equal. He would rather give her control of her own life and things that factored into it, than deciding it for her.

"Edward, she could be in danger!" Alice argued.

"Whatever did this to her, whoever did this to her, there's seven of us here to make sure that she's safe. Please, Alice..." He begged, feeling tired of all of it.

"Alice, he's right," he heard Carlisle speak softly. All eyes fell upon the patriarch of the family. He was a father in every meaning of the word. "This isn't our place to choose for him or her. We'll wait," he insisted. He took Esme's hand in his own, seeing the worried expression she carried. He couldn't make that go away. He couldn't alleviate the pain anyone was feeling. All he could do was help wait it out. "Whatever happened, we'll get through this together. She's as much apart of this family as anyone of us, but standing here in worry will do nothing. I'd advise you to keep yourself busy. Tormenting each other does nothing to help anyone," he added, sparing a stern glance at Rosalie and Edward.

And so they waited.

Alice and Jasper left to feed. Emmett going along purely out of boredom. Rosalie and Edward were the only ones who stubbornly refused to keep themselves preoccupied, too stubborn to listen to Carlisle. They remained at her side until morning came. When it did, when the light irritated her enough to wake, Deanna didn't stir and begin to groan and moan like the dead waking. She just opened her eyes and stared forward. Her breathing was even. Her face wasn't twisted into a frown. She looked vacant, as if there was no person occupying her body, like an empty vessel. Edward felt at a loss. This was hell. Not being able to do anything except watch her wither away...

"Deanna," he whispered. Her eyes looked towards him. It was like staring into a mirror. "What happened?" he asked in a soft voice, drawing circles in the back of her hands in hopes that it would keep her calm. It didn't. Her heart took flight, and she forced herself upright, shaking her head.

"I don't know..." she saw Rosalie's exasperated face and knew that not telling them, leaving the people she loved in the dark, it wasn't helping anyone. "Katherine... She's... She's back, but she's not herself," she began with, trying to ignore the raging headache that she felt come over her at the mere memory of it. "She wasn't acting like herself... She spoke in riddles and I can't - I don't - I _still_ don't understand any of it... The way she was talking, I know it wasn't her! It was her body, but... I know this sounds weird, but I know in my heart that she wasn't herself," she added with a shudder. It was then did she freeze, her lips pressing into a straight line as the memory of last night took over. "She kissed me..."

"What?" Edward croaked, frowning, confusion and anger in his eyes.

"She said that she 'found' me. That I'd 'understand soon' or something..."

"Understand what?" Edward prompted. Deanna gave him an irritated look, and he then realized that she was in the dark almost as much as he.

"I don't know," she snapped. "She said she wouldn't let me go, that she'd find me again in a new body - or something-"

"New body?" Rosalie repeated, cringing as if she were disgusted.

"I don't know!" Deanna huffed, scowling. "None of it makes sense..."

"What makes sense is that you're not safe," Edward quickly said, feeling his anger rise. It wasn't directed towards her. It was directed at Katherine. It was directed at whatever cosmic bureaucracy that dictated that she should be put through the hell that she was living. He heard her heart race in either surprise or anger at his tone of voice. He couldn't tell. All he knew was that he wanted to know who was responsible for this mess. He began shaking his head, rising to his feet. He wanted to think that Katherine was in some maddened state, but she had everything to prevent this. He wanted to believe that this was some strange incident that would pass them by. He couldn't. There was something too strange, too confusing going on and all he knew was what was in his heart: fear. Fear for losing the one thing he never expected to become so attached to.

This was fear. He could feel it in his bones, running through every cell that made up his cold body. If he had a heart, it would be racing. His mind was travelling at a thousand miles per hour with only one objective in mind: Protecting her. He was thinking of every possibility, every reason behind what had happened. He was thinking of all the people he knew, all the ones that would be an asset in protecting her. Hell, he was even thinking of every "safe" place he would tuck her away at any given moment if he had to. This was the controlling mind that was building, growing, as his fear began to consume him.

"We don't know that," Deanna said softly, feeling at a loss herself.

"Of course we don't, but the chances of you being in danger seem a hell of a lot greater than the odds of Katherine pulling a stunt like this," Rosalie retorted, crossing her arms. Deanna could make out the hostility in her voice. It brought her own anger to a rise, but she quickly let it slide out of her mind. She knew Rosalie's habits. She knew that the blond had a penchant for hiding behind hostility to mask her worry, her love. So, she would let this slide, just this once - or so Deanna told herself. "You know Katherine better than me, but don't act like I don't know her... She loves you, and she'd sooner die than consciously hurt you. So either Katherine is a sociopath that fooled us all or Katherine isn't herself. Either way, she said she wasn't letting you go-"

"Which could mean nothing!" Deanna defended. Edward frowned at her. Why was Deanna defending the very person that scared her silent? The look in her eyes was desperation and incertitude wrapped into one. That's when it occurred to him: Katherine was Deanna's Achilles Heel. When he'd first seen the two, they were unhealthily codependent on one another. It was frightening to see the hold they both had over each other. He could only conclude that Deanna was defending Katherine only out of her subconscious need to defend someone who she'd been conditioned to put above herself. She, who hated being confined or shackled, was willingly blind.

"Deanna, think!" Edward snapped. "In what world would your best friend accost you, scare you out of your mind, and ramble on about bodies and not letting you go be a good thing!" He scoffed, scowling as he turned his back towards her. He knew he shouldn't have been so hard on her, but he felt scared. He overcame his insecurities, or, at least, was more accepting of them because of her. She was the reason he was finally able to feel alive again. No one was going to take her away from him unless she specifically chose to leave.

"You're right."

His eyes turned to her. She had her face buried in her hands, her hair messily fanning out, adding to the crazed and strung out apparel. He let out a breath he had held, trying to keep himself together. He gave a look to Rosalie, who promptly left the two as he sat beside her. He was angry, but that was just because it was so much easier to be angry. Being angry made him feel strong despite - and this contradiction did not a damn thing to calm his anger - the fact that he was angry only because his position in all of this mess was so weak. He was helpless.

He pulled her towards him, holding her to his chest, rubbing circles in her back. At first she struggled against him, too frustrated with being unable to do anything, but eventually she melted into him. Allowing him to slow her ever racing heart. It was all so twisted. Katherine was back, but she wasn't. Edward was her shield, but he could do nothing to protect her. The Cullens were her family, but all the worrying between them left their once warm house cold. She was back home, in Forks, but her home was being occupied by the one person in the world that made her feel, unintentionally, unwelcomed. It was all so twisted. Everything was so close to being right. She finished school. She, somewhat, mended her relationship with her mother while preserving the one she had with Charlie. She even was with the guy she was so hopelessly in love with...

Things were going so well.

Then life seemed to slam her back into the ground. That was the kicker.

Life tended to do that. Life treated humans like children. Everything they ever thought and done and even mildly felt responsible for was just a child's game. It was a dream, a fabrication that made reality easier to deal with. And life? It sought to mature it's children. After all, dreams were for children in the eyes of life, and life wanted nothing more than to speed up the process of growing up. Everything they loved was to be torn apart, burned, and discarded whenever it was through destroying it. And when it was over, life went on. While they would be busy grieving, life chose to not even give them the luxury of standing still. Their lives didn't matter in the whole cosmic web of existence. Life didn't respect them. Life didn't so much as think about any of them. Their lives were just few among many. Life thought nothing of them, and it made sure that they knew that, especially by the way life seemed to take twice as much as it gave. At least, that's how it seemed to be playing out before Edward and Deanna.

"It'll be okay," he whispered.

"Are you talking to me or yourself?" She asked quietly, pulling away enough to look him in the eyes. His lips twitched.

He honestly didn't know.

Gathering herself, she moved towards where she knew the bathroom was, leaving him to himself while she tried to clean up. Her life was seeming to become a mess. The one thing she could clean up was herself. She needed something to relax herself. She needed to retreat into isolation in order to draw her own conclusion towards what had happened. She needed to get a sense of being by herself, but with the comfort of knowing others were near. Besides that, taking a shower, feeling warm water running over her skin, washing away remnants of her stress, was the best place for that. There was no better place to allow oneself to be consumed by their own mind and sorrows than in the shower.

By the time she emerged from the steaming bathroom, she could smell breakfast being made. Esme had all but carried her to the kitchen for breakfast, where the whole family was. By now, Deanna had learned how to eat alone without feeling self conscious about being the only one actually eating. What she hadn't grown accustom to was them all staring at her, tiptoeing around her as if she were made of glass. Eventually she grew tired of trying to pretend like it was okay for them to be pretending as though she wasn't okay, but needed everyone to treat her as if she was okay. _That_ was what she couldn't stand. _That_ was what wasn't okay.

"So am I supposed to be going along with this charade?" She asked, a harsh expression that read of how done she was with their act.

Deanna was picking up on Edward's temper.

"We were just wondering what it said," Alice responded quietly. Alice was usually a very blunt creature that was very "present" and upfront with her thoughts. Then again, Alice usually was able to see what consequences her actions and words would bring. With Deanna, she couldn't. Especially now, she saw that she had no choice but to be extra cautious around the freckled face lion who roared before she even set her sights on her proper prey. At the sight of Deanna's frown deepening, she realized her mistake. "You haven't... You haven't read it then, I see," she stammered, averting her eyes as a thick tension came over the family.

Deanna could have pretended not to know what Alice was talking about.

That would have been a lie.

"No. I haven't," she said quickly, her words drawn from whatever filter existed in her mind. She didn't want to be cold towards Alice. Alice tried so hard to be liked, constantly seeking approval from the one person who didn't grant it easily. It was simply hard not to be irritated when she knew what she should do, what she wanted to do, and what she was going to do, especially when each one of those was a different course of action. Sighing, she cut Alice some slack, whatever she could afford to allow herself to give, and continued. "I don't know if I want to..."

"I know... It's just, maybe, what you want isn't what's, you know, best for you," Alice reasoned sympathetically. Deanna just stared at the girl with blank eyes.

"Yeah."

Her response was short. Her voice monotonous. Her eyes relaxes showing neither friendliness nor animosity. Yes. Deanna Walsh was angry.

Angry at herself, yes, but this affected everyone regardless.

She had two types of anger: Volcanic and Blizzard. There was the anger that was upfront, fierce, loud, and destructive in ways that were all too fast for most people to process until it was much to late and all they had was nothing but the remnants of what she destroyed. Then, there was the anger that started subtly, quietly, coldly, and all a person could do was watch and wait out the storm and deal with what they had lost over the course of time it took for the storm to lighten. This was Deanna's winter-esque anger. This was the blizzard.

"When are you going to read it?" Alice tried again. Despite being fearful of damaging a relationship she longed for, Alice was still Alice, and she cared far too much about Deanna to allow anger or coldness to stop her. With Alice, she'd rather endure the anger so long as that meant that the person was still around to give her such anger. She was just as much afraid to lose Deanna as the rest of her family, not necessarily because she "just loved" Deanna, but rather because she saw how important Deanna was to her brother. To lose Deanna was to lose Edward. The two had begun to blur. There was simply not one without the other anymore.

Deanna looked over her shoulder, back at the living room. She expected that the letter was shoved under the cushions, but at the sound of stationary scraping across the counter, she knew better than to simply continue looking. Turning her head, she met Edward's gaze. For a moment, she thought he had ripped it open, looking at her as to express the apology of invading her privacy in the name of security. However, when a flat envelope slid underneath her fingertips, she realized she would have been wrong. Looking down, there it was. A slightly tattered and aged envelope. She felt herself let out a breath of relief. He saved her the energy it would take to dish out a tongue lashing on why he had done something he knew she would have rightly disagreed on.

"I know you might want to wait-" Edward began. He was cut off by the sound of the red wax seal on the paper breaking. "Or now's a good time," he muttered under his breath.

Deanna's lips tugged upwards ever the slightly, but eventually that smile faded as her eyes focused on the letter.

It read:

 _My Love,_

 _I know it is far too late to apologize, but I am sorry._

 _There are no words to express how much pain and suffering I have caused you. There are also no words to express how much it pains me to see that it was I, who is behind your suffering._

 _I know that no amount of apologizing will ever undo what I have done. I also know that no amount of pain that you will punish me with will make me love you any less. That I know for certain. I know that I do not deserve your forgiveness, not yet. I know that they say time is capable of healing all wounds, so I have arranged for us to have some time apart, as much as it pains me to say._

 _In all of my anguish, in all of my self loathing pity for what I have done to us, I have realized that I have been innately selfish. I remember when I was struck by the first blush of infatuation. You in all your beauty had been standing there, among the flowers, too immersed in your own thought to even think of the prospect of finding love or romance. I remember how you would draw near the roses, reaching towards them, and just as your fingers grazed the edge of a petal, you would withdraw your touch, not wishing to tarnish their beauty. I remember that well, for I, myself, looked upon your actions and mimicked them._

 _I had seen you in all your glory. The Michaelangelo to my Raphael. I looked upon you in the field of flowers with baited breath, clasping my hands together, silently praying for courage to approach you, to delve into the scene of a you and me in a beautiful array of natural splendor that was transcending from the warmth of the day into a brisk visage of mystique that lies in the heart of the night. And as the light fell dormant and the night began to stir, in the rich rays of light raining from the heavens as the sun set on the horizon, I realized that there was never a greater beauty than the one I was looking upon. I would never see a sight as lovely as this, for I knew, in this moment, this was the moment I fell, plummeting from the mundane plane of dissatisfaction and into a land of glorious fufillment. And so, I had gathered my courage, and I journeyed into the field, knowing not an ounce of what awaited me in a future aside from the mere fact that I yearned for you to join me in it. And I carried that with me, even after all this time and more. You and me in our field of flowers._

 _And I know you carried it with you._

 _For two years after meeting in that field of flowers, two years after my lips touched the surface of those same hands that touched my heart with their caution, I took your hand and pledge my heart to you._

 _And you pledged your heart, your beautiful and compassionate heart that I fought desperately to acquire, to me._

 _In the past, I was worthy of it._

 _Yet I have descended into a state of eternal damnation, I fear, for I have foolishly shattered that heart, that sweet heart that I love so dearly, in my betrayal. I have torn myself apart over what I have done. I have shed a river of tears, but I now know that no amount of pain or suffering can atone for what I have done to you. No amount of penance can repair our love to its former eminence. No. All I can ever hope for is that time will heal your heart. All I can ever hope for is that I have made the right decision in letting you go, if only for a moment in our eternity, for that is what I had promised you, trusting that you will one day, no matter how far away that day is from now, return to me._

 _I understand that by the time you read this, you will be parting from the life we once shared._

 _I understand that by the time you reread this, the you that had parted from me will no longer remember who I am or what we once were._

 _I understand that by the time you return to me, you will have given me the second chance that, I know in my heart, I will, one day, deserve._

 _All of this I know._

 _I know that you would never wish to forget, and to live in ignorance of what I have done. Knowing this, I have decided to claim the imperfections of our love._

 _I would rather have sent our first letters than this apology. I would rather you know of how inimitable our love was in the beginning. I would rather you bare witness to why you are so essential to my existence. However, those letters, the proof that I did love you like the sun loves the moon, proof that you reciprocated all the love I shared, are ashes. I do not blame you for destroying such sentimental artifacts that embody the transcendence of our love. I have hurt you, and I do deserve to face your wrath. I deserve to live with the pain of losing your trust for all eternity. Those letters, the nostalgic remnants of what once was, are lost. I shall never look upon them again, but I deserved it. I deserved all of it. However, I hope that our love is like a phoenix. I trust that it will, one day, rise from the ashes, the pain of burning desolation, and soar just as it had before._

 _I write this, keeping three things in mind:_

 _One, I love you and I will always love you._

 _Two, I will one day meet see you again._

 _Three, I will let nothing stand in my way._

 _I know that you will not want to forget. I know that you wish to simply live out your days, angry, bitter, fully remembering what I have done. I know that you wish to linger in hatred. However, I believe - No. I know that if I leave you to reside in your hatred, you will come to regret choosing to not bestow upon me a second chance. I know that you will wish, at least once, that you had granted me a shot, that you would have allowed me just one chance at redemption. However, by then it will be too late. By then, they will know of you. I love you too much to allow some small, self entitled, patriarchy to regulate the price of our secret. No. I will not let them take you from me. I will not let someone else have you._

 _Simply know that I am doing what is best for you, my love._

 _I am entrusting our dearest friends to look after you while I try to rid of those who have driven us apart._

 _I swore to love, to cherish, to protect you._

 _I know I have broken our love. I have forgotten to cherish you. However, I will not allow your safety to be compromised! I would rather emulate our love, with some difference, of course, than to allow those beasts to tear you apart! I will not permit them to devour you, so, yes, I have gone against your wishes. I simply pray that by the time you read this again, you will have your empathy, for me, restored and are able to see that I have the right intentions._

 _Please forgive me, my love_

 _Your one true love_

The letter itself stirred something within her. As her eyes traced each word, Deanna felt something within her begin to rise. First, confusion, but that was to be expected. Second, rage. She knew herself better than anyone, and she knew that that she, in her right state of mind, would never want someone, especially someone who claimed that she once loved, would willingly go against her wishes so much that it would warrant such a letter. And three, she felt fear. This sounded like the ravings of a madman, but at the same time, all she could feel was fear for her own life. This was someone who clearly was able to make someone "forget" and someone who didn't wish to let her go - or whoever they thought her to be.

"What the hell is that supposed to even mean?!" She cried, allowing the letter to slip between her fingers, falling delicately onto the surface of the counter.

Her eyes looked to Edward, panicked as Rosalie snatched the letter, her eyes quickly scanning over it's content before passing it over to the rest of her family. That's when everything seemed to kick into movement. Edward stood, holding her close, his arms around her waist, ready to pull her close and run at any moment. She could feel, by the way his fingers slightly dug into her side, that he was just as confused and as fearful as she. The letter, it did nothing to calm any of them. It was a proclamation. It was a declaration of someone who had full intentions to take possession of her, and someone, who, no doubt, saw the Cullens as an obstacle between them and Deanna, otherwise they wouldn't have waited until she was alone to accost her.

"We can't leave you in the open," Edward said, trying his best to sound calm. His eyes betrayed him by how he was looking out the window, panicked as though if he didn't keep a watchful eye on the trees, then she would be snatched from his grasp. Hearing her heart race with trepidation, he looked back to her. He gave her an apologetic look before he placed his lips upon her forehead in hopes of calming her. "I won't let whoever this is take you - not against your will," he promised. The sound of a chairs sliding across the wooden floors, Deanna glanced over her shoulders, and what she saw filled her both with comfort and strength.

It was his family, staring at her, but not with worry.

With determination.

"We'll figure this out," Alice promised, nodding at Edward for affirmation.

"She's right," Rosalie added looking towards Deanna, her eyes, though not as hopeful as Alices, were filled with rage that she would use as fuel to defend her family.

Soon enough others were chiming in with assurance and promises.

 _"I'll make some calls to some who might shed some insight onto this..."_

 _"Everything will be okay."_

 _"No one messes with my family."_

 _"We'll protect you."_

 _"We've got your back, Deano."_

* * *

 **Thanks to _Guest_ , _sholtsclaw698_ , and _GhostlySights_ (my ever loyal reader)! **

**Please, please, please leave a review with your thoughts, theories, questions, etc.**

 **They really help inspire me, and they help me adjust this story towards improvement!**

 _ **~ Queen of Idjits**_

 ** _PS: Holy shit. We're almost to 100k and this story is just getting started, so I'm super excited! Seriously, I hope you enjoy this fic and stick with me :)_**


	19. Chapter 19

_**FreyaCabanas ,** **Thank you so much for your review, and for your appreciation of Katherine and Deanna. I do want to mention how I try to stress the importance of Edward and Deanna's relationship and what I want it to represent. I hope this chapter makes it clear and satisfies you further. Also, to you and to Sara1996, that the letters are crucial. And, Sara, I know that you're hungry, and that's what I'm hoping to play on, but don't worry. This isn't Pretty Little Liars, you will have your answers.**_

 _ **GhostlySights and  Griezz, two of my favorite readers and reviewers. Griezz, thank you for noticing how vague it is. I hope you find some answers, but also some questions in this chapter. To GhostlySights, p** **lease don't hold yourself back! I'm desperate for reviews, rants, etc.**_

 _ **Also, thank you so much to** **Counting Sinful Stars , Sasha, Stark-ingMad, Guest, and sholtsclaw698!**_

 _ **It's been a month, and I'm sorry, but I do have a reason! I swear! This chapter has been tricky**_ _ **and I've written it two times over with**_ _ **so much planning in between. I am trying, and I hope you'll forgive me for not updating sooner, but I didn't want to post total bullshit after so long.**_ _ **Please, bare with me. I apologize for my absence once more, but I think you have waited long enough, so, without further adieu, chapter 19!**_

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Bella was uncomfortable.

Forsks was beautiful, that she couldn't deny. That was the problem. Everything was green. The trees, the trunks, the grass. It never seemed to end. It was too green. It was too much. It didn't feel like home. This felt wrong. There was no sun to warm her pale cheeks. There was no dry air to carry in the smell of dirt and cacti that her mother planted. There was no sound of cars passing by or voices echoing in the streets to prove that life was going on. Forks was everything that Phoenix, Arizona was not, and that was the problem.

It looked too green to be her new reality.

When she arrived, Charlie told her that Deanna had offered her room. Her room. Bella couldn't help the chip in her shoulder over how much nothing had changed because everything had done just that: changed.

The house was the same. It was painted with the same white that Charlie always used. The roof was dark. Her handprint was still on the second step from the top from when she tried her hand at painting, something her mother had recommended in her younger years. There was still the same plants with the same trimming by the windows. And, inside, there was still a series of pictures arranged on the beige wall beside the stairs. It was her. It was a timeline of the same sullen looking girl with mahogany brown hair and a contrasting complexion. Flaming cheeks and all. Yet, that's where all the bitter nostalgia ended.

Bella expected Charlie to have the same bare walls as she continued to walk through the house, but she was met with more pictures. Instead of a placid looking girl in the remaining pictures as she ascended the stairs, there was some of a cheeky smiling girl with soft freckles dotted across her nose. There was her, her and Charlie, even some from when she was younger. Not one was a school photograph, which was all Bella had aside from a baby picture. When Bella first saw the kitchen, she noticed a picture on the fridge. It was of Charlie and Harry Clearwater, them both proudly showing off what she assumed was their best catch from a day of fishing, but there, in the background, in a matching fishing get up, was Deanna Walsh with both thumbs up and a foolishly big grin on her face.

What made matters feel worse was when she had climbed the stairs for the first time and saw that the dark wooden floors had changed to a lighter shade. And the light blue walls were now a light lavender. Even the yellowed lace curtains around the window were substituted with plain white cotton ones. Whatever memories she had as a child of this room were changed. Even the sheets, the comforter. She'd never seen it before. Everything had been moved about. Everything was gone. She thought that she wouldn't have cared. She thought that when she came to Forks that she wouldn't have cared less if anything had changed because she never liked Forks. She was an Arizona girl. Yet, something within her, all the sadness and irritation that she never even knew she had was rising to the surface.

Why? She hated Forks. She hated how sad and lonely the house felt whenever she visited. That's why she stopped visiting! Nothing had ever changed, and that's what drove her away. So why? Why did the sight of everything changing cause her to want to rip apart every picture in the house? Why did it cause her to walk into her room, while Deanna was out, only to simply look at how everything had hanged, longing to place everything back the way it was so that she could be sad, wallowing in her own sorrows, in peace? That's when it occurred to her. She didn't hate that Charlie was happier and no longer lonely. She hated that he had found another daughter to be less lonely with. Bella, she closed her eyes, standing in Deanna's room, hating that it would never feel like her place to stay in again, began to cry. The whole time that she had angrily fussed at Charlie never growing out of his loss, she should have sought solace in. She lost her mother, and now, looking at everything changed, knew she no longer had the same father.

She was all alone in her pain.

At the sound of the doorbell, she quickly dried her eyes and tried not to dwell on that thought. She used to think one of the best things about Charlie was that he never hovered. He usually left her alone to her own devices, and she liked it that way. It was symbiosis. However, after losing her mother, Bella was at a loss. She wanted her mother back. She wanted the same eccentric, happy-go-lucky woman who would decide to go on a trip spontaneously and drag a begrudging Bella behind. That was what Bella wanted. Yet, when it sunk it, when the realization that her mother would never be able to see her graduate, to see her become a successful woman, or share thanksgiving with her after a decade or so with both of them as adults, that her mother would never be able to see her grow up. It stung. No. It hurt. It hurt like her very fibers of being were being ripped apart, and all she could do was wait it out. So, when Charlie left her to get situated, promising that he'd figure out a new room plan for Deanna and her to share, she felt lonely. This was a time that she wanted to share with him! A time where they were supposed to lean on each other in grief! Yet, he left her alone.

That was the first time Bella felt truly at a loss for what she allowed to happen. All those years avoiding Forks, all those years avoiding Charlie's gloomy and lonely household, she had given up on her family. She didn't know, she didn't realize, that one day he would be all she had left. She didn't know that there would be a day when he would be the only thing left of her mother. How could she? The most liveliest woman she ever knew, the one who embodied all things involved with living, truly living, was dead. Bella felt like her world was falling apart, and all she could do was wait. There was nothing she could do. Her mother was gone. There was no bringing her back. Her father had moved on. There was no justice in even wanting him to be condemned back to solitude. All she could do was accept that she was alone.

She had her heart's desire, and there her troubles began.

Gathering what strength she had left, she trudged down the stairs, ignoring every picture, silly or not, on her way down. When she got to the door, she didn't bother looking through the peephole. This wasn't a busy city. This was Forks, the one place where nothing happening was the most exciting thing about the town. Sighing, her pale and slender fingers fell over the worn doorknob. One more thing that had changed, she noted. With a hot sting rising in her heart, she twisted it, wincing as the morning light blinded her for a moment, only allowing her to make out the silhouette of the person, but once her eyes adjusted, she felt them widen.

There before her was a boy. He was a bit taller than her, definitely taller than Deanna - She couldn't help but compare herself to the girl constantly - and looked like a good kid. His slackened shoulders sported a letterman jacket of blue and yellow, but under that was simple Forks attire. He was unmistakably kind looking with pale blue eyes that held nothing except a friendly nature, blond hair that was probably styled before he stepped out into the rainy outdoors, he had a slight roundness to his face, but he's altogether good-looking. And when he looked at her, she noticed the friendly smile on his face falter. At first she assumed he was disappointed in seeing her, but when she saw a smile break out over his face, even larger than before, she felt herself relax, her shoulders falling an inch or two. He opened his mouth, stammering a bit as if he had something to say, but no idea how to move his mouth in order to get the words out. Before long, he shook his head, laughing at his own embarrassed nature. Then, he awkwardly lifted a hand, giving a single, half-wave.

"Hi, um, is Deanna here?" he asked. Bella's delicate lips that had been lifted, just a centimeter or two, fell into a frown.

At first she was bitter over the fact that everyone seemed to be focused on her cousin, but then she realized how foolish that sounded. Deanna was there first. She had roots in Forks. What did Bella have? A track record of fleeing? Shifting side to side on her feet, Bella shook her head, her eyes lowering to the ground. She didn't want to see anymore people eager to see her cousin.

"Oh... Do you know where she is or when she'll be back?" He asked, his eyes looking beyond Bella, as if he was expecting Deanna to be lounging on the couch. Bella didn't doubt that the thought wasn't too far from what could be true. Deanna was abrasive at times, and Bella was certain that she had no trouble in showing her ill-will towards others. Once, when Bella was younger, she had asked if she could have Deanna's phone number, and Deanna said that she didn't have a phone while letting her fingers tap away on buttons of a phone that, according to her, didn't exist.

Bella couldn't see why everyone was so consumed with the bitter girl that Deanna was. She was a rather careless looking girl. Hair never done, always tangled and free. Clothes often worn in, not even caring to dress nice. Her skin light, but not pale. Eyes bright, but often harsh. And instead of clear and fair skin, there was constellations of freckles. Bella knew that she, herself, wasn't all that astounding, but she thought herself to have a classic beauty. Ivory-skinned, that contrasted with the dark curtain of hair that was too straight to try to style. She was rather slender, but soft somehow, obviously not an athlete. She was soft. Delicate even. It took her a long time, but she saw it as, at least, slightly compelling. If she could just stand still, she was certain that she'd look somewhat elegant, despite the clumsy nature she had.

Though, she supposed that's what was compelling about Deanna. The exact opposite. Deanna was imperfect. She was hot headed, demanding, and inconsiderate, but something in her that, despite choosing to do wrong at times, she tried. She tried to do good for the people she cared for. She was hard on others, but even Bella could see that she was even harder on herself. Something in her was broken. She wasn't kind towards her mother, and she sported several grudges, but she refused help. She was independent. She was messy, lonely, reckless, and more. But, she was also loyal, compassionate, and tough to her core. She was alive.

Bella didn't relate well to her peers. Hell, she didn't relate well to people in general. Looking back, even the person she loved most, her mother, was never synchronized with her own existence. Bella never felt like she was on the same page. She felt like everyone else was different pages, but she was in a different book altogether. It was a world that was separated from her own. She was different. She didn't care why she was. All that mattered was that she was. And, in a few months or so, she'd be forced to understand just how different she was. And, she dreaded it. Every minute, every moment that passed by, she felt herself loathing her choice not to graduate early.

"She hasn't been back since prom," Bella said, her voice quietly ringing through the sound of rain falling. The boy nodded, as if he were trying to decipher a foreign phrase.

Thick fog was all I could see out beyond him. Yet, somewhere beyond that fog, perhaps even within it, was that same girl who preferred seeing clouds cautiously roll across the sky than feeling the warmth of the sun. All Bella could feel was the guilt when she silently thanked whatever cosmic bureaucracy that allowed her some time to breathe without staring the girl that stole the life that she never knew she would be missing. Moving her eyes back to the boy, she tried to think of something to say, something socially engaging. Genuinely social people always amazed her. Someone whose brain could generate an inexhaustible fund of things to say, naturally, with no effort, out of nothing at all, that alone was worth appreciating.

"Um, do you want me to tell her that you stopped by?" she asked lamely, cringing at the bland and monotonous tone of her voice. She swallowed a lump in her throat and boldly stood up straighter. "I don't know when she'll be back, but I can relay a message," she offered, trying to refrain from gnawing at her bottom lip.

The boy stared at her for a moment, as if he'd forgotten what he had came to do. Quickly, he blinked and shook his head, not trusting his words about as much as she did. He turned his back, moving to go back to what she assumed was his car. When he reached the edge of her porch, he looked over his shoulder at her, looking forward. His head shook as if he were debating options in his head before turning back to Bella.

"My friends and I were going to go to Port Angeles soon and I just came to ask if she and Edward wanted to come... Can you tell her that? If you want, you can too - I assume you're her friend or something..."

Numbly, Bella gave a nod, feeling as though her cheeks were soaking up all the blood in her body like the grass was soaking in the rain. Maybe it was the hopeful way that he was staring at her or maybe it was the way she finally had a chance to escape the house. She just felt her heart swell with fondness. She knew that, had she met him before, she would have never really seen him as attractive. However, under the circumstances, she felt more willing to let herself be happy with his kindness. She'd never liked a boy before, but perhaps this was how it felt...

"Okay! Sounds good!" He laughed, as if he were astounded that she even nodded. "I-I'll see you then - Oh! I haven't even said when," he laughed, almost painfully nervous. "We were going to go Tomorrow, so, um, yeah! Have a good morning - day! I meant day," he babbled lightly, a goofy grin on his face as he almost tripped down the stairs.

Perhaps Forks wasn't so bad...

While things looked up for her, with Deanna, things looked even more so confusing.

Her hands were still, for the most part. As still as she could keep them with the worn letter in her hands. She felt as though her mouth were dry. Her heart felt as though it werer trying to consume itself, and her limbs. They felt heavier than cement. She was standing. She could have been sitting, but she needed this. To stand. She needed to feel like she was strong, like standing wasn't as much a problem as it felt to be. It was her own way of comforting herself. It was her own way of feeling more like herself. In this grand mess of confusion as to who she was and whoever was trying to "get" her, she needed to feel more like she had before whatever had happened, happened.

To her left, Edward stood. He looked calm, but she knew that was for herself. His eyes, narrowed, cautious, and his stance was slightly towards her than anyone else, readied to catch her if her knees fell weak. To her right was Rosalie, someone who had become her keeper of sorts. Emmett was at Rosalie's side, where he belonged. Alice and Jasper were standing across them with Esme and Carlisle stood, concern written across the woman's face. Deanna, though thankful that Esme didn't feel the need to hide her concern, almost wished she had. However, she knew that believing in false security was the exact way to lose oneself to whatever enemy was approaching. Ignorant bliss was appropriate for some occasions, but this was not one of those times.

The letter had came earlier in the morning. Carlisle had gone into work, making his appearances. Alice and Jasper had gone hunting with Esme, wanting to give more space to the tense house they'd been confined in. Rosalie refused to leave Deanna alone, as did Edward, and where Rosalie stayed, so did Emmett. While Carlisle had been making rounds, a letter was left for him. No one saw who left it. No cameras caught whomever had. It came sealed. There was no address. All it had written on it was the words "To My Love" in fine black ink. Carlisle had read over the first letter more than enough times to recognize it. Though it's scent was slightly different, he could still make out that same signature aroma on it. It was from the same writer of the first letter.

"Just open it."

Deanna shot Emmett a glare. He simply shrugged. She felt as though she were making a bigger deal out of this than she should have. Then again, she justified her response to a degree based on the one fact that they didn't know who they were dealing with or what they were capable of. However, Emmett was right to want her to just get it over with. Waiting would do her no good. It wouldn't prolong what was to come. It wouldn't give her any relief to lie in wait, especially when her mind had grown accustom to drafting up the worst things imaginable. At least, ripping the bandage off would rid of some of the worse fears. And so, with a deep breath, she moved to break the seal. Her finger dragged along the edge before Edward's cold finger's latched onto her hands. Giving him a confused glance he gave her a smile. It was purely for her and her alone. A symbol that even though they were both about to open the doors to hell, he would be there, with her, helping her.

 _My Love,_

 _Something went wrong._

 _I had everything planned. I had everything in order. You were safe, sound, and happy even. Everything was in place..._

 _If I had known that this would have happened, I would have never let them leave with you. You have to understand that when I let you go, I had every intention of finding you again. I still do. However, this task is going to be harder than I originally planned. You see, the people who were going to take you from me, they are greedy. They are bloodthirsty beasts. They are flawed. When they were created, their design was to protect us, to protect us from a greater threat. For a time, we had lived in peace, in love, in symbiosis. Then those men came. They came and they took everything. They thought themselves to be three kings, and like kings, they did not care who they stepped on to gain their heart's desire. They killed their predecessors. They killed our protectors. They turned their backs on my kind, our kind, first._

 _They hunted us. They killed us. And we all went into hiding._

 _I thought I would never see the day when I would feel like myself again. Then I met you. You were this bright eyed rose with many thorns, yes, but you were the most stun_ _ning creature I had ever laid my eyes on. You were so sharp tongued, so fiery in nature. You spoke proudly, without an ounce of restraint. You looked upon everyone, no matter who they were, and you demanded respect, equality. If they thought themselves better, you taught them to stop believing in their foolishness and presented them with an abundance of regret. You were a storm among people, yet the moment you stepped away from them, all that fire vanished into serenity. I saw it. I saw you. You were the epitome of life, of human life._

 _Yes, you had your flaws, you did wrong, but I saw your struggle to do good, to make a difference. You were good, but you did have a lack of morality, or, at least, a willingness to do wrong for the right reasons, which was intriguing to me, a feat_ _in itself. You were prideful, too much, but you were also hard on yourself. I knew that much by seeing you walk into that field of flowers with a_ _heavy heart, holding yourself accountable for things that weren't even your fault. I saw you be broken. I saw you stubbornly refuse help of all others._

 _But then you looked at me._

 _Your hair was messy, not that you cared. Your face was reddening from the sun, and the shine on your face was prominent from a long day of trying. Yet, you looked to me, and all that fire I saw, that burning passion, was gone. For a moment, I was disappointed, thinking you had given up, that your fire was extinguished. That wasn't the case. It tooke me a while, long enough for me to draw near, but I saw it. You had a loneliness in your eyes that only the oldest and most ancient of living creatures had. You were a beautiful mix, a balance of everything good and bad. You were everything anyone with half a brain could want. You were what I wanted. And I kept you. I protected you. And, when the_ _time came, I let you go._

 _I fought for you. Once you were in my grasp, I did everything I could to do right by you. I saw you, the world you wanted, and I fought to give it to you, but then they came. They saw you, the thing I loved most, the very heart of my existence, and they saw a weakness. I knew what they wanted me to do. They knew that you were like me. They wanted you, and I wouldn't let them have you. You see, I had no problem sharing my eternity with you. I still do not. I wanted nothing more than to share my life with you. I wanted to tie my life to yours the very second that you promised me that our love would be everlasting._

 _I just couldn't when I kne_ _w your life would be in danger._

 _So, I did what I had to._ _What happened after that, what I did, it wasn't right. I lost myself in the madness. I was so consumed in protecting you, so consumed in my fears that I let myself stray. I did the worst thing imaginable to you, and I imagine I did something even more so selfish in my attempt to keep you until I could rid of one enemy in hopes that if I were capable of fulfilling that promise, then perhaps there was redemption for me. For us._

 _But I couldn't do that if I knew you were leaving._

 _You are the air I breathe, the sun that warms me, the purpose in my life. There was no me without you. And though I hurt you, I hurt you beyond what anyone who loves another should, I couldn't let you walk away. I know it in my heart that you would forgive me! You loved me! You still do. You will understand that. By now, we should have started anew. By now, we should have been safe, starting again, this time I would know my mistakes and never make it again. Yet everything I worked for, years of planning, it had all gone to waste in less than a few moments. I lost. I lost in my attempt to protect you. I lost you as well._

 _I had gone. I gathered my forces. I got all of my ducks in a row. Everything was set. We were going to fight. We were going to win. We should have caught them by surprise, but they knew. Someone, I don't know who, tipped them off. They knew where we were, how many of us there were, and what we could all do. The only thing they didn't know was about you. Originally, you were meant to be somewhere safe, waiting for me to return, your love making their way back to you after we won the war. Yet, in light of what I had done, with you wanting to leave, so intent on never laying your eyes on me again, I had to protect you, us, from yourself. So I had to hand you over to them. They would do what I asked them, and you would be safe until I arrived. It wouldn't be your lover returning to you because you wouldn't even remember me leaving. You wouldn't remember me._

 _I didn't get to return to you victorious. We lost._

 _We lost, and only a few of us managed to escape the slaughter. Wounded, on the brink of death, I went to you, where you were supposed to be, but you weren't there._

 _At first, I thought you had managed to convince them to let you go. I thought that maybe you had managed to escape them and me. I thought that, maybe, your anger, your hatred, ran deep enough to overpower them. Then I remembered you. I remembered the woman I loved, and I know that even when your blood boils and rage seeps into your bones, yoi love me. You wouldn't do this. You wouldn't hurt me that muc. I love you and you know that. You love me and I know that. What I don't know is how it came to this! I don't know why or how, but my most trusted friends have turned their back on me, on us. They took you from me. They hid you, like I had told them to should anything go wrong, but they know! I know they know I live! I know they know that y_ _ou are safe with me a_ _nd that you belong at my side! So, why? Why did they hide you._ _Such actions, I fear, can only mean that they've betrayed me from their own free will._

 _I know that they are not simply hiding out, waiting until I could find y_ _ou. They are deliberately hiding you from me! They are keeping you from my grasp! But why? What possesse_ _d our friends to treat me like I am their foe?_

 _I know not._

 _All I know is this: It has been not one, but decades_ _since I've seen you._

 _We were meant to be apart for a night. One night. We should have been spending this decade together, rebuilding what we once had, but they ruined it! They stole you from me! They robbed me of what I held dear! I loved you. I held you in my arms. I gave myself to you. I am the one who loves you most and they have chosen to hide you away! I will not stand for it! I do not know why, or how, but I will find them. If they are smart, they would have left you. They would abandon you, so I couldn't find you. After all, finding a group of people is easier than finding a single woman in this wide world. Especially one that is renewed without a drop of memory of who she once was. However, I pray that they are fools. I pray that I will find them and find you, my sweet girl, and save you from these wretched beings who defied our fates together._

 _I pray I catch you..._

 _Wherever they sent you running._

 _I know this will not find its way into your hands until I find you. I know that you still will not have a clue as to what I might speak of. If they did their job, you will not remember, but if they did not, it is well over the time for me to beg forgiveness. I've waited years. I've spent every second of every day trying to find you. Wherever they have you, I will find you. I will find you and you will not have to wait any longer. I write this to you because you have to know. You have to know that I have paid the price. I've made up for my wrongdoings in the hell I have lived. You do not know. You do not remember, if my heart tells me the truth. I just want you to know that my love has not faded. I need you to know that I still love you. That even after all this time, I still believe in us! I am still loyal to you and only you!_

 _I will find you._

 _I will avenge our love. Those who took you from me, my friends, my former friends, are dead._

 _Still searching,_

 _Your one true love._

"What the hell does that even mean?" Deanna groaned, setting aside the first page that was in the letter. She wondered if she even wanted to begin to open the next can of worms. This time, she did move to sit down, unable to make any sense of the situation. The only conclusion that she was able to draw was that whomever was writing this was obviously insane and most likely even more so than she originally thought.

"If you need a moment-"

"I got this," Deanna said quickly, giving Esme a half-apologetic and half-irritated look. Closing her eyes once more and drawing in a breath, she looked to the second page. Another letter. It looked newer, and this time it had a date at the top, but this time, it was written in a different hand. A different person.

 _January 1988_

 _I know this is confusing. I know that you've already received something from that monster. I know you're confused, but this is me warning you. I know you won't remember me, and that's my own fault. I always made sure to erase everything every time we gave you a new start. If you're reading this, that means that you've been found and I couldn't come in person. If you're reading this, then you have to listen to me: You are not safe. It's been over a century since we began running, but this is the first time we have to leave you alone, without anyone protecting you directly. The person who we're running from, this monster, has gotten too close to finding you. I love you too much to let you fall into the hands of someone whose hunted you._

 _What I'm about to do isn't going to be good. What I'm about to do is wrong in every sense of the word, but you have to know that I'm doing this because I love you. You're family. During your first life - I suppose I should call it such, but you didn't live a lifetime, even in those times - we had been friends. We all were. Then everything became so twisted, but you were a sister to me. To us, not the monster that thinks that whatever you share is love. Which it isn't! People do not hurt the people they love like that. That's why we ran. You didn't want to go back, we didn't want you to go back, so while everyone else was away, we took you and we ran as far as we could, but I could feel our sloppiness. Our only chance at successfully evading that beast was to turn back the clock for us all. The less you remembered the better._

 _I would have erased my own mind, but that was too risky. I can't protect you if I can't remember. We've done this about five times total to you - reversing the clock - but this sixth time might be the last. If you never read this, then you've lived a human life and died. Which is what I hope is the case. If you are reading this, then things are different. If you're reading this, you get as far away from wherever you are as quick as possible, but before you go, I want you to know a few things. The better prepared you are, the better off you'll be at running. Besides, I know you'd be swearing up and down if you didn't know what you're up against._

 _I can't give you your full story because I haven't got the time. I'm leaving this with Connie, she'll keep an eye on you. She'll know if and when to send you this. What you need to know is that a crazy person is after you. This person is someone who can be anyone with human blood in them, their own. I know it probably sounds crazy, but this world holds more than just humans. This person is capable of two things: Controlling one's actions and occupying, temporarily, their mind. God, I sound fucking insane right now, but like I said, I don't have much time! We all have to scatter, and fast._

 _We're, well, Jon, he's going to go to the hospital, find a baby that looks much how you look right now, and then he's going to switch you out. That baby is going to go to with me. Don't worry, I've raised you four times, I can handle this. Anyways, here's another thing you need to know: You're not who you think you are. Though, I'm sure you've figured this out by now either by letters or some other way. You're, physically, young. Technically you're just a few days old right now. Physically. Your mind is also as blank as a baby's so, I guess you really are this age, but this isn't the first time you've been a baby._

 _Earlier, a few paragraphs up, you'll see or remember that I said we've reversed the clock. People like us, we're not entirely normal. Sometimes, in this strange life we live, people can do things. Connie can see see anyone's at the current time, no matter where you are. Not as cool as seeing the future, but it does come in handy. Jon, he's the one that can reverse someone's biological clock. Which we've done to you and ourselves quite a bit, but you're the only one that's been a baby. He just keeps us young. And then there's me. I can erase memories. There's more of us out there. There was this one little girl, during the 1920's I think, who could see the future. Believe it or not! But, she was locked up in some asylum. I tried to check in on her later, but they got her..._

 _There was also this one boy I met while travelling in Egypt in the late 1700's, he could control fire - not well, of course, but there was potential. He didn't want to leave with Jon and I, but when we came back for him too, he was gone._

 _I know it sounds crazy since we, hopefully, gave you to the most conspicuous human parents, but for your own benefit, I hope you believe me._

 _Just, please, do me a favor, and not get yourself killed. I've raised you four times. You're like a strange combination of a sister and daughter to me._

 _I hope you never read this, but if you do, I swear, I'll make sure that monster doesn't touch you ever again._

 _Please stay safe,_

 _Your best friend, Mary_

Deanna stared at the second letter for a long while, just staring and allowing every word to sink into her mind and try to sort itself out. Finally, when she was ready, she looked up and spoke the only words in her mind leave her lips.

"Holy shit..."

She passed on the letter to Edward, who had been reading over her shoulder, who then passed it over to Esme and Carlisle, not caring who else read it. His only concern was the girl to his right, looking sick. Her heart was fighting to slow down, and her breath was drawing in and blowing out heavily as if she'd ran a marathon. Her face was the epitome of fear. Her brows were furrowed, but her eyes wide. Lips pressed together, but she was biting on the bottom, containing whatever threatened to escape from her throat. She closed her eyes, muttering things broken words opening her eyes, only to sigh in defeat and begin again. Edward didn't know what to do. He didn't know what to say to make her feel safe, which was all he could do in the moment.

"What do we do?" Emmett asked, being the first to actually voice their thoughts after Deanna's. All eyes turned to him, half of which were glaring at his blunt delivery of the very thing they all were wondering. Especially Deanna, who felt as though her breakfast were coming up her throat. Swallowing, she turned her attention to Carlisle, as did everyone else. He was their leader, their father, and the one who could make sense of things in times of need. And he, as always, straightened his shoulders looking to his family and all he had built over the years and he nodded.

"You read the second letter. We have to get her out of here," he decided.

Rosalie was the first to protest.

"We don't know who wrote it! Why should we trust it?"

"If someone meant to make an attempt on her life, they wouldn't want her to run," Carlisle reasoned, looking to the girl in question.

Deanna was lost in thought. Her whole life felt like a lie. If what the second letter said was true, her mother wasn't her mother. Her father wasn't her father. She was just a girl who was switched with whoever was supposed to be living her life, minus the psychopath at the end. She had just been told that there was a mind controlling crazy person on her tail. Someone who both took over Katherine-

"Katherine! What do we do about Katherine? How did she even get, I don't know, 'possessed'?" Deanna asked, not even caring about her own life, just those she endangered with it. "The letter said they had to have their own blood, human blood, in them. Katherine was feeding on animals." Her thoughts turned to Rosalie. What if they couldn't trust the second letter's writer, "Mary."

"She was a newborn. There's a chance she'd still have enough blood in her, I suppose," Carlisle sighed, frowning with all the new questions he had. For a man that had been alive as long as he, it was rare that he was presented with even more confusing situations. Now, he found himself faced with things, creatures that weren't human. "They called them bloodthirsty," he realized, calling attention to his children who were debating the intentions of the second letter. When he was met with confused eyes, he looked to Alice who was already rereading the letter. Before long, her gaze met his with a nod.

"They also said that the 'bloodthirsty beasts' that 'took everything' thought themselves to be 'three kings'... Do you think we're looking at vampires?" She asked, looking to Carlisle, who, though didn't say it, nodded in agreement.

"It's a possibility at the least."

"Are we not going to talk about the second letter?"

Attentions turned to Jasper, who looked partially ashamed of snapping at them.

"It mentioned others, like this 'Mary' or 'Jon' and 'Connie'. She said that they knew someone like them who could predict the future, and that she was locked up in the 1900's... Alice!" He insisted, as if he were revealing something they should have know. Sighing in irritation, he looked to the pixie herself, who only blinked in confusion. "Tell me how many little girls could see the future and got locked up for it. She said 'they' got her. 'They' could be referencing vampires," he reasoned. As insane as it sounded, for as little as Alice could remember, it did sound plausible. To some extent.

"So, if Mary, and her friends, aren't vampires, then what are we looking at? Humans with gifts?" Edward asked, a hardened frown on his face.

"We're looking at possible enemies of the Volturi," Emmett sighed, feeling his head begin to ache.

"People who can control shit! This is beyond us!" Rosalie hissed, shaking her head. "We should pack up and leave. While we still can!"

"No... It wouldn't work like that," Alice said quietly, looking at Deanna, skeptically.

"What?" the human girl groaned. This was almost too much for her to wrap her head around, and this was coming from the girl who had gone to her junior prom with a family of vampires.

"My visions can't see Deanna. They can't see the wolves either. Whoever's after Deanna can't control things that aren't human, or still having remnants of their human blood. What if their powers only work on humans? Or whatever they are or have been?" Alice suggested, raising an eyebrow.

"Edward can read minds. That works on the wolves," Rosalie argued, shaking her head and disregarding her sister's notion. Alice nodded, accepting that. However, she was quick to turn her eyes down, staring at the ground as if she were trying to solve everything. Her eyes flickered about the tiles for a good while, everyone remaining silent until she looked up, defeat in her eyes.

"Maybe there is no reason behind why some gifts work on soecific people while others' gifts can't..."

"Have we considered temporarily leaving her with the wolves?" Emmett asked, presenting a new possibility of protection. Rosalie was the first to scowl, the one with the most prejudice against them and the thought of Deanna going near the lot of them. "A lot have been changing lately. I was hunting closer to the line, and there were some waiting. I assume most are there because of other vampires. There was tracks through the forest. A lot of them. A few hikers found dead a week or so ago, but it looked like a bear attack..."

"Did the nomads ever leave?"

"They were supposed to..."

"Does it even matter!" Rosalie groaned exasperatedly, looking to Deanna, one who usually gave her support when her family did not. "The wolves are a gamble. If whoever this is can control them too, she's toast and we wouldn't even know it." That was all that it took to make Edward shoot down the idea, giving Emmett a sharp look whenever he tried to defend his idea. All the while, Alice and Jasper both looking at each other. The same thought crossing their minds.

"No."

All eyes turned to Edward who was glaring at the second oldest vampire in the room who was glaring just as hard back. There were no words for a moment, just pure messages through thought and feeling rebounding off of the two. The silence couldn't be preserved for long.

"Either of you want to tell me what's going on?" Deanna asked sharply, her eyes set in an irritated glare. Edward's nostrils flared as a puff of breath came out, trying to calm himself before turning back to the human in the room. He was becoming too concerned with protecting her.

"Jasper... He thinks that if the wolves cannot protect you, and in case we cannot, then we should turn to an option that is far worse than should even be considered," he added, trying to calm the girl whose heart was beating as much as her face was turning red with anger. His eyes snapped to Emmett, looking at the blond beauty as if she had grown another head. Deanna wasn't a fool. She knew exactly who he was talking about, and who they would be turning to. She didn't need Edward to tell her it was a bad plan. Or, at least, not the ideal one. The Volturi? She heard enough about them to know that they wouldn't let her walk away from them without being turned. She knew she'd have to give up her humanity eventually, but she wasn't ready. She wasn't ready to say goodbye to everything she built in Forks.

"No... No!" She said forcefully, pushing him away even though it wasn't his idea that frightened her. She was shaking her head. "No. If we go there, I'm not coming back human, and I know I said I'd go through with the change, but _I_ need time! I need for that to be something that wasn't made because my hand was forced so _no_! Besides, I'm not going to just pack everything and leave - Charlie would lose it!" She reasoned, looking down as it barely dawned on her in how deep she was. Where was the bright side? Where was her salvation? She once thought her life was turning into a romance, but now it was looking like a poorly written soap opera.

She wouldn't have it.

With her jaw clenched, she looked to Edward, to his family, to _her_ family. They loved her. She could see it in their eyes and the fear and worry that they were being forced to endure for _her_. She knew that a selfless person would just take it. A selfless person would just turn herself, or go to the Volturi and save them the worry, but she wasn't selfless. She was selfless, and the only one she would allow to choose her life choices was herself. No. This wasn't looking like a romance, so she wouldn't treat it like one. Things weren't easy. In fact, her life felt like it was crumbling before her eyes, but damn if she didn't grip her life and try to take it back from whatever cosmic bureaucracy that decided to send her down this path. In the end, she was the one thing in her life that she had control over.

"I'm staying. If it only works on human blood, there's a chance that the wolves are able to be controlled by whoever is behind this. He or she took Katherine, but that won't last forever. We can try to wait things out here," she reasoned, nodding as the idea began to form as it left her lips. "You all aren't newborns, so we go on like everything is fine since it is-" Edward was the first to move, already prepared to protest that one statement, but she cut him off before he could begin. "Don't." He gave her a startled expression, but kept to silence, if only just to hear her out. If there was one thing he had came to know, it was that she wouldn't have him _not_ listening to her. "I love you. I love all of you, but I do still have a family."

"What if whoever is doing this gets to Charlie or Isabella?" Edward asked. He may not have wanted her to go to the Volturi, but that didn't mean that he didn't want to whisk her off, far away where no one could touch her and where no one could hurt her. He was more than willing to just have her take off somewhere across the world, where it was sunny, where whoever the "monster" was could never expect her to be at.

"Well, then I suppose it's a good thing you do not sleep," she snapped back, just as quickly. Before tensions could rise, a hand fell on Edward's shoulder. Turning to his right, he saw the patriarch of his coven, standing there with a sympathetic look on his face. Not a word left Carlisle's lips, but his thoughts were heard loud and clear. All of which were a reminder that it wasn't right to force anything upon Deanna, and that, knowing her, if he wanted her, he wouldn't. Though it had taken Edward some time to get over his paranoia of trying to keep her safe from everything, it was Carlisle's observations that pressed Edward into letting go. He was the one who saw Deanna as she really was, clearer than Edward.

Deanna was in love with his son. That enough, Carlisle knew. However, Deanna held a love for herself, or a respect of self that surpassed her emotions. His whole family had seen her on the occasions that she showed that she wouldn't tolerate someone who would insult her by treating her like a child by going behind her back. Edward had once gotten so brooding, a trait Carlisle had grown irritated with at times. His son seemed to be born in self-hatred. When Edward voiced that he was going to leave because Deanna was "too good" for him, the whole family heard her shouts that called Edward a "coward" that was just "spewing out bullshit", according to Deanna. She hadn't tolerated his control just about as much as she tolerated his pity.

She wouldn't have it.

"I'm not leaving you alone," Edward said after some silence, listening to every lecturing thought Carlisle forced upon his mind.

"Fine. I'm glad to see you're capable of negotiating," Deanna scoffed, crossing her arms, still crossed with him.

They were not a perfect couple. They still had long ways to go, but anyone in the room could see that they clearly loved each other. Under all that hostility, under all that rising tension that had built up, there was love. Edward who didn't want to lose her, and Deanna who didn't want to lose him in his worries. It was all so maddening, but the rest of the Cullens couldn't help but wonder how the pair were still in the infancy of their relationship, especially when their quarrels seemed to be bordering those of Rosalie and Emmett in the times where she was either too serious or he was too immature. But like Emmett and Rosalie, Deanna and Edward were a good balance for each other. Beautifully messy.

With a sigh, Deanna shifted, her eyes flickering over their faces until they returned to Edward, showing a reluctance to look him in the eyes, knowing she would forgive him sooner if she did. Stubbornly, her lips parted, but then shut before she could even utter an apology for how quickly she had armed herself. Just as stubbornly, Edward took a step towards her, meeting her gaze. That was when his family dispersed, moving to distract themselves in hopes to give the two any shred of privacy they could spare. Not that either seemed to be shyly keeping quiet.

"So that's that, then?" Edward asked, crossing his arms, a betrayed look on his face. Although Deanna's heart somewhat empathized with his, her mind was set. She always found it strange that someone could understand another, regardless of how they regarded the other person. Empathy, humanity, it was strange like that. One could empathize with their worst enemy, but, at the same time, humanity gave itself the gift of the will to choose, and she chose to put herself above his fear in hopes that her confidence would bring him relief. If it did not, she still wouldn't bend a knee, but she did wish for relief all the same. Crossing her hands, mimicking him, she drew in a deep breath for strength and gave a nod. Whatever anger he had seemed to break in that simple action alone. Relentless, stubborn, determined. Whatever it was she had it down to an art. "You're asking me to risk losing the person I love most."

"No. I'm asking you to trust me."

"Why not trust me!" He shot back quickly, a hardened look upon his sculpted features. The fire was back in his eyes because he couldn't believe her own reasoning. From his standing, yes, they didn't know what was to come, but Deanna was being selfish to the point where she would rather put herself and live in a delusion where everything was fine. From her standing, yes, she would be in danger, but Edward was being selfish to the point where he'd rather put fear ahead of what reality was, which was her in danger despite whatever she chose to do. Regardless of how angry they were at each other, regardless of how stubborn the other was, and regardless of how maddening it was to be in this mess, they loved each other, and they knew that enough would stay the same.

Her face softened eventually, and the moment she did, was the very same that his had.

"I trust you, Edward. I do, but people trust me too," she reminded. She moved towards him, placing a hand over where his heart once was beating. She felt him lean into her touch, arms folded around her just as she knew they would. She would have never imagined that there would be a day where she could be so against someone, yet so favoring to. "If I go, Charlie could still be in danger. If I stay, I know that you wouldn't let whoever is doing this even get close to him, let alone me. Besides," she sighed, knowing her heart and who it worried most for. "There's still Katherine."

She didn't need to look at him to know he was scowling. Even though he had taken to Katherine, as a friend, it was no secret that he had been cross with her, ever since he found out that she had lied about visiting the Denali. He didn't trust her, he didn't trust who was behind her. That was mostly his worry talking. To think that Deanna was so blind in her loyalty to Katherine, to think of how easy it would be for whoever was behind this to use Katherine to get closer to Deanna, it frightened him beyond relief. He was sure of a single thing when it came to Katherine: He wanted her far away from Deanna. He trusted the girl about as long as he knew her, not enough. For Deanna's sake, he kept his thoughts to himself. She didn't need, nor did she want to hear that he wouldn't let Katherine _or_ Deanna close enough for them to so much as share a look. He would let go of some control, but he wouldn't let her be blinded by her heart.

"She's somewhere in there, I know it!" she insisted, pulling far enough to look in Edward's eyes. Her own were filled with a determination that was as strong as a storm in the sea. There was no doubt in her eyes, not even looking at the possibilities that she feared. She couldn't - she _wouldn't_ believe that Katherine was gone, lost in whatever limbo that she was forced into because of mind control. "Katherine would never abandon me. I can't just leave her _alone_ ," she shuddered.

That was the word. Not just any word, but the scariest word that Deanna could ever imagine. Alone. _Alone_. It was the most terrifying thought to her, and it was her greatest fear. It wasn't clowns, spiders, fire, or Christmas clay-animation specials - all of which she did fear. She feared loneliness above all else. Above failure, above responsibility, above herself. It was loneliness that made her heart whimper and cling to those she loved. It was loneliness that made her second guess her desire for solitude at times in fear that time away from others would lead to isolation. It was loneliness that had caused her and Katherine to end up in the mess they had. It was loneliness that she feared would be her condemnation.

Although she had a questionable moral compass, although she had her fits of pushing others away, she was human, and she craved connectivity. She took pride in being something more than a thoughtless creature. She held herself on the premise of being a complex being that was able to reason, to fantasize, and feel her own emotions as well as others. To know that she could share what others felt, to know that others could share her own. It was impossibly invigorating. It was freeing. It was taking what someone understood to be the very fundament of reality, and to take it beyond that. It made her life had meaning. To think that she could spend her life, with so many possibilities of having that, of sharing who she is, to place her life into the core of another was to live forever. It was to defy the rules of everything the world thought it knew. It was creation in its purest form. Empathy.

Isolation was destruction. Isolation birthed monsters by immersing them in the dark, in the loneliness of the human soul. And even though the dark had it's appeal, it was dangerous. When one was starved of the light, of the warmth, of connectivity, it did what any kind of famine did. It made a person hungry, desperate, _angry_. It turned people into the worst versions of themselves, and they forget who they once were when alone. Isolation was the paragon of inhumanity. It could make the very best of people forget themselves and all that mattered. It could make someone numb to all feeling. And while the world would keep going, a person could lose everything.

Isolation breeds apathy, and apathy allows one to become far worse than an animal.

An animal can kill for food, for protection. Cruelty, however, is not what animals, not what humanity, is capable of. Cruelty is a monster's gift to themself. Isolation enables one to do what humanity cannot stomach. Isolation didn't silence humanity. Isolation didn't give humanity a mercy killing. Isolation slaughtered humanity, slowly, quietly. If one was lucky, the isolation would let them die, but if death evaded them, something far worse would become of them. They would be the birth of the dark. They would be the product of nothingness, the destiny of monstrosity, and everything that mattered before would be for nothing. Isolation made the walking dead.

Deanna feared it. She feared it like a mother feared losing a child. She feared it like a farmer feared a drought. She feared it like any sane person would. Deanna's fault was not having too little a heart. What she felt for her mother, or, rather what she forced herself to not feel wasn't out of apathy - well, it was just that in the beginning - but rather temporarily numbing her heart because she felt _too much_. It was justified, somewhat, but that didn't make her actions right. Being human hurt, and the closer she felt to changing, the more she feared losing it. Humanity burned as brightly as the sun, but she feared what would happen if she ever had to face the dark forever. She was human. She hated it, but she loved it too. That was the premise of humanity, though. The opposite of love was not hate. It was apathy, and apathy was what the real enemy was. And though she visited apathy more often than she should, she knew that she would never make it a permanent stay.

Apathy was death, and she had a death with benefits relationship. One that needed to end.

"She wouldn't want you to be in danger," Edward stressed. He loved her too much to let her go.

He was selfish. Love was selfish.

Many can pretend that love, putting one above oneself was selfless. Many could go their entire lives without facing the truth. Just because one can't face the truth doesn't make it any less real. The difference was that both Edward and Deanna admitted to selfishness. Edward admitted how selfish it was to put Deanna first. While it sounded selfless, it was the most selfish thing he could do. He put her above all else, everyone else, and he knew how ugly it would get if life placed him in the circumstances to choose her over an other or others. He'd choose her, in a heartbeat. No matter who else was there, he'd choose her because he loved her. He chose her because his heart desired her most. He yearned for her love, and to what lengths would he go to gain that? His desire for her safety was almost at the level of a necessity, and he didn't want to know how many bridges he'd burn to do just that. All because he loved her. His heart was hers, and he protected her like a thirsting man protected his only water source.

Out of love.

Out of selfishness.

"Life doesn't give us what we want," Deanna whispered, her eyes filled with defeat. It wasn't the first time admitting that, but it still hurt all the same. "Death, loss, it isn't fair, Edward. Why would life be any different? Thinking that you can change that is just building up an expectation that will only end in misery. _And_ , before you say anything, no. No, I'm not being pessimistic, I'm actually trying to be the opposite," she added with a brief moment of irritation once she saw how poorly she was at that. "What I'm trying to say is that while we can't hope for ideals, we can hope for the best of reality. Reality is that I'll be in danger regardless, but I'd rather be in danger with some control over my life. You said you wanted me to live a human life, well this is human: making my own decisions."

He didn't want to accept it, but he did. He loved her, and he respected her. He respected her far too much to take away something profoundly human: free will. Like it or not, she had changed him. She still was. He feared it, what danger it brought to her, but he would be who she needed him to be. In this moment, she didn't need someone to take her far away where no one could touch her. She needed support. She needed him to show that he would support her in her decisions. That was the kind of person she wanted. She didn't want someone better than her. She didn't want someone less than her. All that she wanted was someone worthy, someone she could love, someone who would love her the right way. And he did.

"The things I do for love," he groaned, letting his lips curl into a crooked smile. Deanna Walsh was by far the most exhausting person he had ever met in his long life. And he loved her to the point where he relished her tiring existence. He wouldn't want her any other way.

"Don't say that. I might take advantage of you," Deanna sang teasingly, slipping a hand over his, leading towards the front door. He knew that she wanted to go home. If only to check in on Charlie.

"The human taking advantage of the vampire? That is like the lamb devouring the lion," he chuckled, his cool fingers gently squeezing her soft hand. He would miss that when she turned...

"Rise and rise, again and again, like the phoenix from the ashes until the lambs become lions and the rule of Darkness is no more."

"Biblical."

"I may have hated catholic school, but I did pay attention. You started it!" She added swiftly, shoving him as they neared his car. He theatrically placed a hand over his chest, giving her a wounded expression. She merely huffed, crossing her hands over her chest and turning her head, giving him a profile of her face that was smiling all the same. This is the girl he had fallen desperately in love with.

She was a plucky little lamb, when he met her. A snippy, sarcastic, and selfish lamb - three things that were still very much present. However, she was more than that now. He could tell in the way she walked. She was stronger, more sure of herself. She made more eye-contact. She dared to be open. She carried herself with pride in who she was and what she did, right or wrong. She was the lamb that had turned into a lion. She loved the light provided by her loved ones, but she did shine on her own, giving herself warmth and guidance that she needed. She was becoming even more beautiful. To see a fragile woman was beautiful. To see a woman with confidence, a woman who loved herself and loved others just as much was even more so.

When he first looked at her, he had seen a human, easy to break. He saw someone he felt the need to protect from all else. He had somehow imagined that she would need him.

How wrong he was...

He may have looked to be closer to perfect than most would ever get, but inside he was a mess. If life were a game, it would be a game of chess, and he was losing to none other than himself. He had torn himself apart and stitched himself together, just to punish himself further. And while he reached for the wrong end of a knife, she grasped his hand, took the knife from him and threw it. If life was a game of chess, he was the king, moving slowly, on the edge of losing everything. If life was a game of chess, then Deanna Walsh was his queen, and she protected him. Even from himself.

He needed her.

"If you're not going to drive, then let me."

"You've never driven once in this town."

"There's no day like today."

"There's tomorrow. Buckle up."

"Make me."

"Deanna Walsh, are you trying my patience?" He asked, unable to hide his smirk. Glancing at her, he saw he had met his match to see her cheeky smile.

 _She would smile in the face of danger_ , he thought with a smile of his own. She was full of surprises, but one thing was always a certainty with her: she never stopped for anything when it came to loving those in her heart. She'd smile through anything, if only to give him a sense of relief. He truly had met his match. He found someone so willing to protect him just as he wished to protect her. That alone, even though the odds might be stacked against them, made him feel stronger. Together. It was together that they could take on anything. This he was certain of.

"You can't try what doesn't exist."

"Deanna-"

"I'm already buckling! Geez! Like I would let you take me anywhere without a seat belt on!"

The ride back to her house was mainly quiet, but neither of them minded. They needed that time to worry in silence. Thankfully, when Edward heard Charlie's thoughts, he was sure that it wasn't whoever was behind the letters. Any of them. Thankfully, with everything that was happening, he had some distraction to the scent that Deanna's cousin was emitting. It had taken some time, time in which Deanna had been giving him articles of clothing in hopes of helping him adjust - no shirt could compare to the real thing, of course - to Bella's scent. For the most part, it had worked, but he never was on the same half of the room as the doe-eyed girl, who was fidgety. It didn't help when the girl chose to sit directly beside a fan. The act had Edward out the door, but not without a polite salutations to Deanna's surrogate father.

By the time he had "left" Alice had arrived on foot, driving him off, far enough out of sight for him to appear to have left. Before long, he was back inside Deanna's room, finding her, locked in, lounging on her bed. He would have pointed out her locked door, but he thought better of it. He knew why. Even though she insisted on staying, she couldn't even hide her slight fear. It was better that way. For the rest of the night, neither of the two spoke, for two reasons. One, they had nothing more to speak of without talking in circles. Two, Deanna didn't trust Bella to mind her own. Despite being a loner the girl was a magnet for danger to the point where Deanna had to wonder if she was a "gifted" human with the talent of drawing misfortune.

Silence was better. It gave a false sense of security that was helped with arms around her, which was a real security, as she slept. Edward's cold body had been on the outer side of her blankets, but she still nestled herself against him, and when she did not feel the chill of his body, she began to wake, feeling a need of awareness when he wasn't around. For that reason, he didn't leave her for a single second. Not until a doorbell was heard the next morning.

Alice had been dying to have alone time with Deanna. She was too stubborn to accept second place to Rosalie when it came to being liked as a friend. She was nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet when she got word of Edward, asking her to watch Deanna while he, her brothers, and Rosalie hunted. She didn't hesitate to speed down, going alarmingly over the speed limit, counting on her sight to keep her and any other driver safe. She arrived on their porch in one piece, so everything had proven to be worth it. Giving another knock against the pale wood, she heard a different shuffle of feet drawing near, and with a heavily sweet scent as well. With a painful swallow, Alice, forced her smile to be broader and bolder. By the time she was met with a pale faced girl, she looked to be the picture of sunshine and happiness.

"Hi!" she beamed, giving a friendly, though excessive, wave to the awestruck girl before her. "I'm Alice! I was wondering if your cousin was here," Alice nearly sang, folding her hands in front of her, tilting her head as her golden eyes memorized every feature from the thicker bottom lip to Bella's widow's peak. The girl's lips were twitching as she seemed to struggle to find the words until pained sounds came out before an apology tumbled from her pale lips. Alice couldn't help but wish she had more time to gain her favor as well, but she was there for one person.

"Um, uh, yeah - yes!" Bella choked, looking aghast as her head snapped, looking over her shoulder, half expecting the green-eyed girl to be lounging on the couch. "I'll... I'll go and get her for you," Bella said, moving awkwardly aside, letting Alice in. The short haired girl flashed a "dazzling" smile and skipped inside, finding herself at the foot of the stairs, waiting patiently. The house was quiet, Charlie having left for the station. Before long, she heard Bella's mumbling, another apology, and the sound of a door shutting before the sweet-smelling human trudged down the stairs with the promise that Deanna would be down soon.

In their time waiting, Alice noticed how often Bella tried to subtly look at her, taking in everything she could at the distance she could see from. Alice knew that it wasn't out of the blue to be stared at. A vampire's looks were always enhanced, and with the fashion sense that she had harnessed, she was always getting attention. It wasn't until Alice realized that Bella didn't look as wonder-struck as before, but rather picking at her features with a sense of familiarity. Alice knew that Bella must have at least seen pictures of her family, but there was an unnerving shift in Bella's body that made Alice glide across the living room and seat herself beside the doll that was Bella Swan. The girl didn't take as easily to Alice, as her cheeks bloomed with unnatural color, and her heart raced at a pace that should worry her.

"You okay, Bella?" Alice asked gingerly, getting a closer look at the girl, whose eyes began to look everywhere except Alice's. "You don't look too good," Alice mused, having half a heart to check to see if the girl was running a fever. She wasn't a doctor.

"You look like someone I know," Bella said quietly after some time of silence. Alice cocked up an eyebrow and the girl seemed to stammer for an explanation. "N-not really. I just meant that I met someone, and she reminds me of you, even though you do look different - but I-it's weird!" Bella exclaimed. Alice couldn't help the way her heart sympathized for the socially awkward girl, but at her words, Alice couldn't help but focus on it. She cocked up an eyebrow and pressed Bella more for a thorough explanation. "I, ah, I saw her at the airport. She had amber eyes, which aren't exactly... like... yours. Are your eyes..." Bella's voice trailed off, as a frown deepened as her eyes focused on Alice's.

"Hazel in this lighting is like that," Alice lied quickly. "But the girl? Tell me more about her," she insisted. When Bella gave a curious look of her own, Alice simply smiled and lied again with the fluent skill of a renowned actress. "She sounds like a friend of mine. Did she have dark curly hair?" She asked. Bella nodded. "How about a silver necklace?" That was met with a nod again. Alice kept probing until, finally, she took out her phone, flipping it open and showing her a picture of Katherine. She didn't need a verbal answer by the way that Bella's eyes locked on Katherine's. She knew her, alright. Katherine had been gone around the time that Bella had arrived. The question was simple.

Was Katherine really Katherine at the time?

"Bella, when you met her, did she ask about Deanna? Did she ask anything specific about her or where you lived?" Alice asked, trying to separate the worry from her lips. This girl had nothing to do with anything. If she got hurt in the crossfire of whatever was to come, Alice was certain that guilt would be even heavier. This girl was a fragile doll compared to them all. Deanna included. "She hasn't called in a while, so I was wondering..."

"Are you her girlfriend?" Bella blurted out, shocked at how quickly that left her lips.

Alice was mildly surprised as well. Then again, knowing Katherine, having been the closest to her aside from Deanna, had known that the newborn had a type and shy brunettes were Katherine's type. Before Alice could even start daydreaming of all the perfect gowns that a wedding would take before the two, she reminded herself as to why she was there, why she was talking to Bella about this specifically. With a smile, she shook her head, but focused once more. Sitting up straighter than before, she tried to find the exact words that would help calm the girl, but before she could voice them, she heard the sound of Deanna walking downstairs.

"Deanna!" Alice greeted, a bright smile over her face once more.

"Alice... What were we talking about down here?" the girl asked, eyes flickering to Bella and back to Alice, skeptically. She was a selfish person and didn't want to share with Bella. She was warming up to her, yes, but she wasn't going to change in a fast instant. Not when jealousy ran so deep. When Bella didn't answer, before Deanna could be the force that she was known for being, Alice stood up, volunteering in Bella's stead.

"We were just talking about who she met at the airport when she flew in!" Alice chirped, urgency in her tone, but only enough for Deanna and Deanna alone to notice. "She met _Katie_. At the airport. Before she left," Alice said with a clearly forced smile. It was tight lipped, but it got the point across. For a second, she regretted telling Deanna because if looks could kill, Bella would have been wasted. Deanna's eyes were burning brighter than the stars when she heard this, nearly rounding on Bella, Alice was in front of her, arms wrapped inhumanly strong around Deanna, preventing her from moving, almost from doing as much as breathing. " _Don't_ do anything brash. She knows nothing," Alice whispered into Deanna's ear before pulling away. Turning to Bella she flashed a smile before dragging Deanna to her room. As soon as the door shut, Alice and Deanna were talking over one another until both fell silent, not being heard or hearing the other.

"Bella saw Katherine, at Port Angeles, in the airport. This was nearing the time of prom, and when Katherine should have been returning!" Alice hissed, feeling anxiousness rising in her chest. Deanna was nodding, hot on her trail as she continued to recount Bella's memory of their friend. By the time Alice finished, they were both sharing the same half insane look in their eyes as they both came up with the same idea that both of them knew wouldn't be approved by Edward. They were just lucky enough that Deanna had enough nerve to take a chance, and that Alice had enough nerve to let her do just that.

"If Katherine was possessed around that time, then there's a chance that we'll get to see whose behind this on tape," Deanna stated, voicing the idea that was formulating in their minds. Alice nodded, wide eyed as she began to wonder where her courage was.

"What if they're hiding behind another face?" Alice asked. She wasn't about to underestimate their enemy. If she had the power to possess people, she wouldn't begin her plan to find someone and take them back by wearing her own face to the first step.

"Then we'll find a lead to them," Deanna snapped, moving across the room, grabbing her clothes, uncaring if it matched or not. By the time she was yanking on flimsy tennis shoes, Alice already dug out the keys to her car. She felt a sense of dread wash over her as she wondered if this was worth going just now. Her mind told her to wait, to call Carlisle, who would, in turn, tell Edward. They would call a family meeting and go from there. As much as Alice wanted to go and chase after whoever thought it was okay to be stalking a girl over a century, she was second guessing her actions.

 _"Come on, Alice. Let's Nancy Drew this bitch."_

* * *

 _ **First of all, I am so, so, so very sorry for the long wait, but as you can see, I wrote an EXTRA EXTRA long chapter that is a 14k as an apology. I have written this twice, and**_ _ **I am still not**_ _ **fully satisfied, but I tried to redirection this back onto the course that**_ _ **I wanted it to go in.**_

 _ **I am kinda salty over how little reviews I've gotten in that time, but I am a greedy person, so just disregard that.**_

 _ **However, I do wish to hear your thoughts, good or bad. I live for reviews, you all know that, and I just, I need some help sometimes when it comes to getting this right.**_

 _ **I know I've been very picky with the letters, but all for good reason. I promise, I am going somewhere with this, I just need some more details on how to get there.**_

 _ **I am proud to say though, we are finally at a 100k length! AND the story is just getting started! So, please, stick with me, and I'll try to make it worth it!**_

 _ **I don't have specific questions, I do hope that you'll leave me a review with your thoughts though.**_

 _ **With love,**_

 _ **Queen of Idjit**_ _ **s**_


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